


Lessons In Delayed Gratification

by rachelladeville



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bisexual Dean, Bottom Dean, Choose Your Own Adventure, Edging, Impact Play, Impossible to Tag, M/M, No cheating, Pining Dean, Spanking, Sub Dean, Team Dean's Red Ass, additional tags are broken down by chapter and listed at the end of chapter one, anal virgin dean, compulsive pie eating, dom Cas, funishment, other pairings at the discretion of the reader, these tags apply to entire fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:38:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 91,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelladeville/pseuds/rachelladeville
Summary: Trouble with his transmission brings Dean’s road trip to a grinding halt. Stuck for a few days in a tourist trap on Route 66, he finds himself unexpectedly charmed by the town and its residents. Uncharacteristically, he decides to stick around for a while.As he navigates the beginning of a new life, there are choices to make. And in this story, we readers get to help make them. So, should Dean fall into bed with his co-worker? Should he experiment a little at the BDSM club? Should he allow himself to be videotaped? And, more importantly, should he wear the silk panties? In this story… you get to decide as you go.





	1. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to thank Destiella for editing this for me and acknowledge that, as usual, she did far more than check my spelling and grammar. She's responsible for some damn good suggestions and she's been very fun to work with. Also, she helped me with the kind of mistakes that come up when putting together a work like this one. I'm sure this was just as confusing to beta as it was to write and she worked very hard to be sure that everything made sense, no matter which choices the reader makes. Kudos to her!

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**IMPORTANT INFORMATION - DO NOT SKIP**

**DO NOT READ THIS STORY CHRONOLOGICALLY because it will not make sense. Just start reading at chapter two and at the conclusion of each chapter, there will be a choice presented with instructions on which chapter to read next accordingly (detailed instructions below).**

**THIS WAS IMPOSSIBLE TO TAG because the content is largely based on a readers choices. However, I have compiled a list of tags below, broken down by chapter. If you are someone who watches tags carefully, then make sure to consult this list. Additionally, the tags that apply to the entire fic are listed in the usual place.**

**The story is complete, but remember, don't hit 'next chapter' out of habit. Read the choice and then go to the indicated chapter for that choice.**

**IF YOU ARE NEW TO ARCHIVE AND UNFAMILIAR WITH HOW TO NAVIGATE EASILY BETWEEN CHAPTERS, HERE'S WHAT TO DO:** start by going to the bottom of this page and hitting "Next Chapter". That will take you to chapter two which is actually the first chapter of the story. At the conclusion of that chapter, make note of what chapter you'll be reading next and then use the button at the bottom of the screen labeled "top". That will return you to the top of the page. Then, select the button that says "Chapter Index". That button opens a drop down menu from which you can choose which chapter you'll be going to next. At the end of each chapter it's the same: a choice is presented. Make note of which chapter you're meant to read next and then choose that chapter from the drop down menu each time.    

 

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**TAGS BY CHAPTER (tags contain spoilers).**

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**Chapter 2 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 3 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 4 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 5 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 6 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 7 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 8 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 9 -** Reader exposed to descriptions of flogging, use of restraints, genital lashing, and a golden shower. 

 **Chapter 10 -** Reader exposed to recollections of homophobic language. Reader exposed to recollections of sexual experimentation between under-age boys (nothing descriptive).

 **Chapter 11 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 12 -** Reader exposed to a description of 'hole whipping' 

 **Chapter 13 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 14 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 15 -** voyerism

 **Chapter 16 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 17 -** impact play, discipline

 **Chapter 18 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 19 -** voyerism

 **Chapter 20 -** no additional tags

 **Chapter 21 -** exhibitionism 


	2. Two

For as long as he can remember, Dean’s life has been about raising his little brother. But lately, with Sam having ridden off into the sunset, following his Ivy League dream all the way to sunny California, Dean has found himself running out of excuses for remaining shackled to a co-dependent life with John Winchester.

Putting his past in the rear view mirror was easy. But cruising America’s highways as a lone wolf didn’t turn out to be the grand adventure he’d always imagined. There’s simply too much time for self-reflection. To Dean, it didn't matter how many sexual conquests he enjoyed, how much cash he hustled at pool, or how much whiskey he put down. Emptiness followed him down the highway like a specter, always lurking in his rearview mirror.

When his transmission started slipping, Dean knew right away that the stash of hand tools in his trunk wasn’t going to cut it. So, he started looking for a shop. Passing through town after town, he finally found a place that looked agreeable. There was an adjacent motel that offered cheap rooms, and the diner across the lot had a permanent sign offering a free cup of coffee with every piece of pie.  

He wasn’t surprised when the mechanic, Benny, told him it would be a few days for the repair. That was how Dean wound up renting a motel room in Pontiac, Illinois and paying by the week instead of by the night.

With nothing better to do, Dean began exploring the town. That first morning he started the day by walking across the parking lot of the Fiesta Motel and sitting down for breakfast at the Fiesta Diner. From his seat by the window, he could actually see his baby sitting out behind the shop, waiting for her turn. Just as he was tearing into a stack of pancakes with a double order of sausage, a familiar face lumbered into view.

Looking up from his plate, Dean saw the mechanic he’d spoken with yesterday approaching with wide smile on his face. “Mornin’ brotha,” he greeted. “I see you found the best place in town to get a shit cup of coffee.”

Dean chuckled as he watched a waitress walk by and teasingly snap her damp dishrag at the man’s backside. The snap was loud and had Dean cringing. “You mind what you say ‘bout my coffee,” she chided with a teasing grin, “unless you’d like to start payin’ for it.”

Benny’s face was flirtatious as he bent over and stuck his rear end out saying, “Oh baby, do that again.”

As the waitress passed by him, she gave him an exaggerated hip-check and winked at Dean. The two of them watched her as she passed in between them and then Benny returned his attention to Dean. “I was gonna call you today,” he said, leaning on the booth, “I’ve got your parts ordered for the Impala and I should be able to get started on it tomorrow. But there’s a rod and clip that won’t be here til Friday. Sorry brotha, but it looks like I can’t get ya back on the road til Monday.”

“S’okay,” replied Dean. “Room’s paid up through the weekend anyway. Wanna sit?”

The big ox of a man gave an affirmative nod and slid into the booth opposite Dean. As he did, he gave a wave to the waitress. She glanced over and put up her finger to show she’d be over in a minute. As he waited, Benny turned over the coffee cup onto its saucer so she could fill it and began unrolling the silverware. “So, ya got plans for the week?”

“Nope. What’s to do round here?”

“Well, there ain’t no titty bars,” chuckled Benny, “but there’s some good spots to hang out. And, didn’t you say you’re on a road trip or somthin’ like that?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“You come in on route 66, didja?”

“Hey, don’t judge me.”

“Well, I won’t tell anybody if you wanna sneak over and check out the Route 66 Museum on Howard Street.”

“Where’s that?”

“Downtown.”

“How far’s the walk?”

“Well, I might be inclined to let ya take my truck if ya bring me back some lunch after.”

“Deal,” smiled Dean, “What’s for lunch?”

“I’m sure you’ll find somethin’. Surprise me.”

Dean chuckled and turned his attention back to his food as the waitress approached, spearing a sausage with his fork and sliding it through his pancake syrup before popping it into his mouth.

“The usual?” she asked Benny as she filled his coffee cup.

“Thank ya kindly, sweetheart.”

“Gimme the damn thermos.”

Grinning, Benny pulled an ancient green Stanley thermos up from beside him and handed it to her. She took it and left, presumably to fill it for him. Dean watched her go, her ill fitting cotton skirt a bit too short and catching his eye.

“Don’t even think it,” growled Benny. “That girl’s like a sister to me and I know your type.”

“What?” he protested, exaggerating an innocent expression.

“I know that look. I invented that look. Trust me brotha, there’s plenty o’ tail in this town. That one’s off limits.”

“Yeah, ok. Who is she?”

“That’s my Lizzie,” he said affectionately. “Elizabeth. She ain’t blood, but she may as well be. She’s got no daddy so that’s what she’s lookin’ for, if ya know what I mean. I make it my business to run off all the fools that only want the job for one night.”

“I’m down for two or three nights, easy,” joked Dean. Benny gave him a hearty laugh, but continued to wear the ‘big brother’ expression to which Dean finally conceded, “Point taken.” Offering only the most gentlemanly of smiles for the waitress when she returned, Dean watched her drop a huge platter of biscuits and gravy on the table.

“Thank ya darlin’,” smiled Benny kindly.

“So,” sighed Dean, changing the subject, “what else is there to do around here. I’m stranded for a week ya know.”

“Well, there’s the Pontiac Auto Museum.”

“Anything that’s not a museum?” he prodded.

“Bowlin’ alley ‘round the corner,” chuckled his new friend. “My boys drink there after work cause they got $5 pitchers.”

“That as close as it get’s to a strip club in Pontiac?”

“Unless you git invited to a private party,” chuckled Benny, digging into his meal.

They finished eating and said their good-bye’s, Benny foisting his keys into Dean’s palm on the way out. It was difficult not to laugh out loud when he climbed into Benny’s truck. The thing was a screaming metal death trap.

Putzing around town, Dean took in the sights. Pontiac seemed to be just big enough to offer the amenities of a city, but just small enough to avoid the feeling of urban sprawl. The downtown area was quaint and charming, complete with a town square at its center. There were lots of unique places to eat, many of which were themed to draw in the tourist crowd.

The Route 66 Museum was mildly entertaining and he managed to kill over an hour looking at the relics of a bygone era, one that celebrated the freedom of the open road. After, he set about finding a suitable lunch for himself and his new friend. Avoiding the upper scale places which all seemed busy, Dean settled on a nondescript dive just off the main drag. Armed with styrofoam boxes of chicken fried steak, Dean headed back to the Fiesta.

He and Benny ate in their laps while perched on the tailgate of Benny’s shit box truck. They talked of small town life, favorite cars, and other comfortable topics. When they’d finished, his buddy returned to work and Dean headed back to his room for an afternoon nap. He was awake again by 4:00 and had nothing to do.

So, out of boredom more than anything else, Dean pulled out his cock and took his time, stroking languidly to pay-per-view porn. The bodies on screen got him worked up enough to get the ball rolling, but it was the flash of a memory that really got his heart thumping. Blue eyes were kind of a thing for Dean, and the sharp rebuke that Benny had issued when he’d caught Dean checking out Lizzie was still fresh in his mind. Remembering the dangerous edge to his friend’s voice added to his building pleasure and his eyes searched out the television screen again, needing more stimulation to get himself over the edge. His toes curled and his knees locked when he came, and he breathed heavily for a few minutes before pulling his jeans up from around his ankles and hopping off the bed.

Once he’d cleaned up, Dean crossed the parking lot again to meet up with Benny at the shop. He waited a few minutes in the lobby and then tagged along with Benny and a few of his friends as they headed to the bowling alley on the corner. Chuckling when he saw the sign, Dean threw a questioning glance in Benny’s direction.

“Fiesta Lanes? Does the same dude own all these businesses?”

“All but the shop,” he answered. “Current owner won’t sell.”

The bowling alley looked like any other. The design was leftover from the seventies and most of the shoes for rent seemed to have been purchased in that same era. The beer was cheap though, and the bar food wasn’t bad either. The group lingered at a table in the bar, but had a view of the lanes. As they drank they laughed at the various groups of bowlers, some of whom were taking the game far too seriously while others played so poorly that it was comical. Benny begged off around 10:00 to escort a new lady-friend home, and with a solid buzz and a full stomach, Dean also chose to call it a night.Crossing the lot to get back to his room, Dean couldn’t help but admit that he liked this town.

Benny wasn’t at the diner the following morning, so Dean wound up walking as he sought to amuse himself for the day. Luckily, he’d already driven around enough yesterday to have the lay of the land. He was easily able to head north, cross the river, and reach the Pontiac Oakland Automobile Museum without any trouble. When he’d finished, he grabbed lunch at the adjoining restaurant before heading back to his motel. As he approached the sprawl of Fiesta properties, he saw his baby was no longer waiting in the lot behind the service station but had been brought inside. She was up on the lift now and Dean slowed as he walked past, thinking how much he liked the idea of working in a shop like this one... just him and a couple other guys… laid back atmosphere… honest work that would callous his hands. Inhaling the scent of motor oil and new tires, Dean resumed walking only to be stopped as he rounded the corner.

“Hey brotha.”

“Hey Benny, you workin’ hard? Or hardly workin?”

“I’m workin’, can’t ya tell?” joked the burly man, indicating the cigarette in his hand. “I’m workin’ on my afternoon smoke.”

“Beers tonight?” asked Dean.

“Sure brotha. Come by round 4:30.”

Dean had fun with Benny and his friends again, but the group didn’t stay as late this time, disbanding before it was even dark. He wasn’t really ready to call it a night. But, the nearest pool hall was farther than he cared to walk. Instead, Dean ordered himself up another porno, this time choosing one that featured men instead of women.

He stripped naked as the movie started playing, wishing he could fast forward over the preliminaries and get straight to the good stuff. Sprawled out on the bed, Dean began to stroke himself. On screen, there were three men. Two of them stayed standing and speared the third between them, one fucking into the guy’s mouth while the other pegged him from behind. Watching this, Dean worked himself up to a steady pace. Then, with the weight of his cock in his left hand, Dean came hard, his asshole clenching around the index finger of his right hand. He slept well that night. As he had  since arriving in Pontiac.

The next day, Dean woke feeling rested and content. Laying in bed, he wondered why he felt so comfortable here… why the itch to get back on the road wasn’t gnawing at him.

He liked this town, sure, but he’d liked several of the towns he’d stayed in previously and that hadn’t been cause to stay more than a night. But, here he was, trapped in Pontiac by circumstance and not even frustrated by the situation. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he began to realize that he was in no hurry to move on at all - not even when his baby was returned to him.

Maybe it was just because he’d made a friend here. He certainly felt a connection to Benny, liked him, respected him. He was like Dean, he looked out for the people he cared for.

When he did get up and dressed for the day, he borrowed Benny’s truck again. Armed with a copy of the want ads from a local paper, he filled out applications for a local manufacturing plant and a restaurant. The restaurant, Bernardi’s, wasn’t a tourist trap. It was a relatively nice Italian restaurant that catered to affluent locals. The classified’s had said there was a position open for a bartender. But, when he’d stopped in for an application, he’d been told that the position also required waiting tables at least two nights a week. It wasn’t his dream job, but he liked the manager right away and was impressed when told how much he could earn, even just waiting tables. So, he left there hoping he’d get the job.

Stopping at the shop to return Benny’s truck, Dean found the employees all lounging in an unused service bay, the industrial sized garage door open and a soft breeze floating in. Two of the men, Nick and Saul, were leaning up against the cinderblock wall, tucked into the shade of the awning above as they nursed cigarettes and watched the traffic go by. Dean had gotten to know them over the past few days as he’d spent time with Benny. Both were older, married with children, and seemed content to live vicariously through their younger friends. Looking past them, Dean saw Benny goofing off with Ash, the two men circling each other playfully and trading threats while snapping at one another with greasy red shop rags.

Dean greeted all the men warmly and bummed a smoke from Nick, joining them. With his back to the wall, Dean took a few drags and traded small talk with the older men. When Ash and Benny’s game carried them out of the garage and into the late afternoon sun, Dean found himself watching Benny more than Ash. The man was an impressive specimen, and ruggedly handsome. The blue eyes were an enticement for sure and Dean found himself acknowledging that the man was quite attractive. It was doubtful he was interested in men though, Dean had a pretty good feel for these things.

According to Benny, the afternoon had been slow. One appointment had cancelled and another hadn’t shown up. There were two cars they couldn’t work on because they were waiting for parts and one of those was Dean’s. The guys were literally just hanging out until it was time to punch the clock and go home.

“This happen often?” asked Dean.

“Naw, we stay pretty busy,” replied Benny. “Honestly, there’s a few things we coulda been doin’, just nothing we _had_ to be doin’. If the bossman were here, we woulda kept busy. But, when the cat’s away…” he joked, “the mice will fuck around.”

Grinning widely, Dean asked, “You guy’s drinkin’ tonight?”

“They are,” he smiled, nodding to his friends,  “I’ve got a date.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Andrea.”

“Hot?”

“Hell yeah. Tall, tan, Greek. She’s a ten.”

“Whatcha gonna do?”

“It’s our third date, Dean. I’ll give ya three guesses.”

“Touche.”

“What did you get up to today?”

“I applied for a couple jobs.”

“No shit?”

“Nope. Turns out I like this town. Think I’ll stay for a while.”

“If I’d known you were lookin’ for work, I woulda put in a good word for ya here.”

“This place is hiring?”

“Well, it ain’t a dream job,” admitted Benny, “but Craig… the dude that runs the counter… he’s just been sentenced. He’s gotta go serve some time.”

“For what?”

“Gettin’ drunk and stupid.”

Dean nodded acknowledgement, understanding that Benny didn’t feel at liberty to divulge another man’s crimes. He’d been told all he needed to know anyway. There was a job opening. Here.

“I think I’d be interested in that,” admitted Dean.

“Well, it ain’t always like today,” he warned in response. “Most days we actually earn our keep.”

“I’m a quick study.”

“I bet you are,” grinned Benny, turning away from Dean. He watched as Benny and the other guys all ambled over to the timeclock and punched out, picking up coolers from the floor and dispersing. Nick lingered to lock up.

“Catch you guys later,” Dean called as he made to leave.

To his back, Benny called out, “In the mornin’, Dean, come back in the mornin’ and we’ll talk to the boss man.”

Smiling to himself as he returned to his room, Dean felt content. He had dinner at the Fiesta diner and then, as a treat, he bought an apple pie from the diner and carried it back to his room.

He spent the remainder of the night sprawled out on his bed. With the television droning in the background, he forked pie straight from the container while he leafed through the local paper he’d been carrying all day. Looking beyond the ‘employment’ section for the first time, Dean found himself looking at apartments for rent. He had no idea what it was that made him keen to stay here… couldn’t put his finger on what he liked about the place. But it was easy enough to admit that the call of the open road was no longer whispering to him. It would seem that Dean Winchester was ready to put down some roots.

Having eaten his fill of pie, Dean tucked it away in the little mini fridge. But, half an hour later, he was still thinking about it. He tried to reason with himself. The last of that pie would still be there in the morning. But, he wanted it. It was there and he wanted it. So, still awake at midnight, he pulled the pie back out and began nibbling at it again.

When he woke in the morning, Dean felt refreshed. He threw out the empty pie tin, evidence of last night’s indulgence, and patted his tummy as he remembered how good it had been. Then he took a long shower and rubbed one out. After a shave, he put on his last pair of clean jeans and headed across the lot for breakfast. Seating himself, he realized he’d arrived too late see Benny. He saw Lizzy, though, and was surprised that she remembered him. He tipped his head in acknowledgement of her greeting, but was careful to not turn on his sexy smile. No need to poke the bear that Benny probably was, by seeming to make eyes at the girl he’d been warned away from.

When he’d finished eating he wandered over to the shop. After a quick hello from Benny, he was left on one of the dated chairs on the grungy lobby. Dean watched Craig working behind the counter and warmed as he pictured himself in the man’s place. Repair shops like this one had a manly smell that he’d always loved. Perhaps to some people the mingled scent of exhaust and dirty oil was unpleasant. Not to Dean. In fact, some of the best memories he had were associated with the stink of working on cars.

His father, rarely caring much about spending time with his sons, had always seemed to make the effort when he was working on a car. Sam had never cared to join in, but Dean took every possible opportunity to feel like he had a real father. Changing oil, cleaning carburetors, patching exhaust pipes… these were the kinds of things that made for a great Saturday afternoon in the garage with his old man. Or, they had, when he was in his teens. At this point, it had been a long damn time since he’d done anything but fight with John Winchester.

“Dean?”

“Yes,” he answered, snapping out of his daydream and back into the present. Hopping to his feet, he took a few steps forward, extending his hand to shake.

“I’m Bobby,” said the man. Dean smiled as he took in the man’s appearance, flannel shirt, boots, and a grungy hat emblazoned with the Valvoline logo. Following the man back to his office, clearly a dump site where old paperwork came to die, Dean soon realized that Bobby was the ideal boss for him. He was a bit gruff, which Dean liked, and very simple. This man said what he meant and meant what he said.

Case and point: the man looked over the desk at Dean and, in lieu of formal interview questions, simply said, “I ain’t gonna pussyfoot around… Benny says you’re a decent enough guy and that you’re lookin’ for work. If I hire you, is your desk ever gonna look like mine?”

“Um, no sir?”

“Well then,” replied Bobby, “let’s give it a shot and see how ya do. Can you start tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean answered, jumping up to reach across the desk and shake the man’s hand again.

“Yeah, yeah. Wipe that shit-eatin’ grin off your face. I said we’d give it a shot, not that it was a sure thing.”

Chuckling as they walked back out front, Dean was introduced to Craig who would be training him tomorrow. No one mentioned where Craig was going, so out of respect, he didn’t speak of it.

When he arrived the next morning, he found Craig to be helpful, if less than friendly. Dean could understand the guy being a bit stoic. After all, he wasn’t going on vacation; he was about to put on an orange jumpsuit. Shortly after lunch, Dean was sent on his way. But, on the way out, he had a bit of good news. The parts they’d been waiting on to finish his transmission had arrived and Benny had assured him they’d be able to finish the job on Monday.

“It’s Friday night,” said Benny as they parted, “ya got plans?”

“No wheels,” Dean reminded. “What plans can I make?”

As they were speaking, Dean’s phone blared from his pocket. Not recognizing the number, Dean held up his finger to Benny indicating he needed a minute. He stepped aside to answer, letting Benny get back to his work.

The call was from Bernardi’s, to tell him he’d gotten the job. They wanted to know if he could start right away. Dean smiled before he could help himself. He’d stumbled onto a town he liked, made a few friends, got a job right away, and now, had a second job offer on the table.

Considering it was Friday evening and he had nowhere to be, Dean didn’t even hesitate to agree when asked to start immediately at the restaurant. At least there he’d be meeting people rather than spending another solitary night in his motel room.

Benny offered to drop him off at the restaurant and Dean was more than willing to walk home after. So, he showed up at the agreed upon time and began his training. Bernardi’s was busy that night and short two from the waitstaff, so, in order to be as helpful as possible during the rush, Dean began delivering waters to new tables, taking their drink orders, and then turning each over to its waiter when they were ready to order. His initiative seemed appreciated by his co-workers who each gladly gave him a small portion of the tips they’d earned that night.

As they worked to clean up and close down the restaurant, the mood was light and fun. The staff was comprised mostly of people his age and younger. Even the manager that he’d liked, Max Banes, seemed very youthful, probably Dean’s age or possibly even a bit younger. When the work was done, they gathered their things and punched out, pulling Dean with them as they walked down the street for drinks.

The bar was a dive, but they all had a blast. It seemed that the waitstaff at Bernardi’s was attractive, as a rule. Dean knew he’d fit in too, having often been told by his father that he was too pretty for his own good.

But, of all the faces he’d met that night, the most intriguing was Jimmy. He was one of the more senior waiters on staff, having been there for quite a while. His body was perfection, ideally proportioned with just the right amount of muscle to be shapely but not so much as to appear bulky. With his unruly mop of dark hair, Jimmy made their uniform of plain black slacks and white shirts look damn sexy.

He carried himself well, too, an easy stride and fluid motions that made him seem like he was waltzing through the dinner rush rather than sweating through it like the others on staff. The five o’clock shadow he bore had Dean wishing he could feel it on his inner thigh and the man’s mouth was a unique shape that Dean couldn’t seem to stop staring at. But, the single most defining feature seemed to be his eyes. They were intense, energetic, and a vibrant blue that Dean was immediately drawn to.

Jimmy wasn’t the only one that Dean would’ve gladly taken home though. He also thought Jo was hot as fuck. She carried herself with a confidence that not many women had… it made Dean want to insult her just so he could feel the slap she’d have cause to delegate to him. Yeah, he could see himself playing some dirty games with her. But, she was clearly spoken for. Michael, another server, seemed quite possessive of her and she seemed to enjoy it whether they were actually an item or not.

Honestly, there wasn’t a single waiter or waitress on staff tonight that Dean would’ve kicked out of bed, and that included his boss, Max, who had beautiful cocoa butter skin and fierce bright eyes.

He played darts for a while with Andy, soon learning that he loved the guy’s wicked sense of humor. It was fun for a while, but once Cole joined them, it went downhill quick. The guy was a dick - it was obvious. He had a raging inferiority complex lurking under his falsely confident exterior. Dean made an excuse and walked away, shooting Andy an apologetic look as he turned to go.

Stepping away from dart game, Dean’s eyes cut across the room looking for Jimmy. He was easy to spot, leaning casually on the back of a barstool and chatting with the sexiest woman Dean had seen in weeks, and that was saying a lot considering the company he was keeping.

“Buy you a drink, Dean?”

Responding to his name, Dean turned to see Max offering him a stool.

“I won’t say no to that,” he chuckled, sliding into the seat. “This seems like a fun crew, thanks for the job, man.”

“This is a fun crew,” he confirmed, tipping back a strange looking shot. “And you’re going to fit in well Dean, I have a sense about these things.”

Dean leaned around his boss to order his drink and Max craned his neck around to silently signal the bartender that he would have another.

“So, how long have you been at Bernardi’s?” Dean asked, pulling his heels up onto the framework of the barstool.

“I’ve been there since high school,” his boss replied with a grimace. I started the summer before my senior year of high school. I didn’t go to college right away after I graduated, but now I’m a student at Heartland. I’ll probably keep working at the restaurant until I graduate.”

“Heartland. I think I passed by the campus the other day. Looks like a nice place. What are you studying?”

“Radiography.”

“What is that…” muttered Dean, his mind sluggish from all the drinks, “... is that, like, xrays?”

“Exactly.” Dean watched Max’s eyes catch something across the room and then he was sliding off his stool and pulling Dean with him. “I didn’t see that my sister was here, come and meet her.”

Dean followed his boss through the thinning crowd and was led straight over to Jimmy and the gorgeous woman he’d been speaking with.

“Dean, this is my sister Alicia. Alicia this our newest addition at the restaurant, Dean Winchester.”

“Nice to meet you Dean, I hope you’ll enjoy working for my brother. He’s not half the pain-in-the-ass everyone says he is.”

It was strange how difficult it was too keep his eyes on her, considering how incredibly sexy she was. But for some reason, his eyes wanted to say locked on Jimmy, linger over the details of him. He looked even more tantalizing now - with his tie tugged loose and his top two buttons undone. He had one foot perched on the base of a bar stool which caused his opposite hip to pop.

Sloppy and drunk as he was, Dean found that he really liked talking to Jimmy. It was more than lust too, because, much like Andy, Jimmy was funny. His jokes were dirty and his observations keen. They had similar taste in music and movies too, which left them lots to talk about.

Over the next few weeks, Dean settled easily into this new life he was building. His Baby was running like a dream and the schedule for his two jobs worked out easily. His weekdays were spent at the shop from 8-4:30. And, while there was some fluctuation, the restaurant usually had him starting at 6:00 three or four nights a week. He almost always worked both Friday and Saturday nights, but he didn’t mind in the least. After all, those were the best shifts for tips. Plus, he liked his work friends a lot. They kept the restaurant a fun place, and the crew almost always partied together afterwards.

So, life fell into routine. He even found an apartment. Benny had been very helpful during the move-in process, kindly assisting with the heavy lifting as well as allowing the use of his truck as needed. And so it was that Dean found himself a resident of Pontiac. His apartment was small and ruddy, but it was his.

When he returned from work, he never felt that nervous feeling that had plagued him while living with his father, always wondering what mood the man would be in when Dean got home… and how he would handle it. His spaces were all safe and pleasant these days. The dual income kept him earning enough to comfortably afford his expenses and still allow for the squandering of significant amounts at the various bars around town.

Benny was pretty much Dean’s best friend these days, but Jimmy was a close second. The difference between the two was that Benny and Dean spent a great deal of time alone together, while Dean’s interactions with Jimmy were primarily those shared with the rest of the staff as they partied together. Secretly, Dean nursed a little crush on each of them, perhaps Jimmy a bit more than Benny, but he hid it from both. He’d never had any _real_ _friends_ before, and he didn’t want to ruin things with either of them.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon in early fall when Dean had been seized by sudden and fervent desire to make chili. He’d gone to the store for the things he’d needed, browned the hamburger, chopped the onions, and tossed everything in a pot to simmer. With that done, he’d then texted his closer friends an open invitation to stop by and have some. As the afternoon slipped by, Dean and his friends settled into card games at his table, everyone helping themselves to food as they felt like it.

“Brotha, that was the best chili I’ve had in ages,” sighed Benny, leaning back in his chair.

“You should come back tomorrow,” he chuckled, “It’s always better the second day.”

“Not gonna be any left tomorrow,” called Ash from the stove, “it’s ‘bout gone already.”

“No way,” challenged Dean, getting up to go look. “Damn,” he whispered, peering over the side of the huge pot, “That was a double batch. Two pounds of hamburger, a pound of sausage… hell, there was an entire onion in there.”

“I know there was,” called Nick from the other room, “and probably a whole jalapeño too. Don’t light a match.”

As if to give credence to his statement, the man leapt to his feet and lifted his leg in a dramatic fashion as he pushed out a noisy fart. He blasted out two more short ones in quick succession after, kicking his leg with each one and earning a crass laugh from most of the men in the room.

“How do you still have a wife?” teased Benny ruthlessly. “Brotha, that smells like a dead body with some rotten eggs on top.”

“She likes the smell of my farts.”

“Sure she does,” chuckled Dean, reaching around Ash to pull the empty pot from its burner and drop it in the sink. Waiting for it to fill with water, Dean watched his friends goofing off and giving Nick shit. It was impossible to deny how happy he was.

As the hour grew later, Dean found the raucous group dwindling and settled in on the couch with Benny to watch the post-game commentary of the Saints game. That’s what they were doing when Jimmy dropped by. Jimmy had only been to Dean’s place once that he could remember so he felt doubly bad that the chili was gone.

“I just got off work,” said Jim by way of explanation, “or I would’ve come sooner. But, at least I brought pie.”

“Oh? Which kind?” asked Dean as he jumped up from the couch.

“Lemon ricotta.”

“Fuck, man, that’s my favorite,” he said, moving toward the kitchen for plates.

“They’re all your favorite.”

“Yeah, yeah. Less talkin’ more pie cuttin’.”

Benny had abandoned the couch and followed them to the kitchen. He was just in time to watch Jimmy take a knife from Dean and sink it into the pie tin. “Lemon ricotta?” questioned Benny tentatively, “I’ve never even heard of that.”

“It’s Italian,” replied Dean.

“Well no shit,” laughed Benny. “Lemme have a piece of that… we’ll see how it stacks up to my granny’s pecan.”

“Sorry the chili’s gone,” said Dean to Jimmy.

“No big deal. I had some pasta before I left,” replied his friend with a sexy wink. “Got a beer for me?”

“That I do,” replied Dean, trying to keep from staring too long at Jimmy’s incredible smile.

Jimmy opted out of pie, choosing instead to nurse his beer as the other men dug in. He only stayed for a few, heading out when Benny did and leaving Dean the rest of the pie. After they were gone, Dean gave himself a pass on cleaning anything up. He settled in the couch with second piece of pie and a tall glass of milk and started flipping channels. He caught the tail end of an old movie he loved and when it was over, he got up.

Clearing the dishes from the living room and the table was the extent of his interest in chores tonight, so he left everything piled in the sink. Locking the entry door and turning out the lights, Dean traded his jeans and flannel for trackpants and a soft t-shirt. He had planned on watching a bit more television before turning in for the night. But, the fact that his favorite pie was sitting in the fridge seemed to be nagging at him.

Giving in to temptation, he bent into the fridge and pulled out the container. Not bothering with plates as he had for his first few slices, Dean simply grabbed a fork and headed back to the living room. Then, with the box open in his lap, Dean ate pie until it was gone. The overdose of sugar left his stomach feeling queasy but he smiled anyway, patting his tummy in satisfaction.

The next night after work, the friends from Bernardi’s went out. They generally rotated between three or four favored establishments within walking distance of the restaurant, but this time, the girls had a hard-on for singing karaoke. So, to placate them, the guys agreed and everyone piled into cars and drove across town. It was fun watching the girls make fools of themselves, progressively drunker with each song and thus more convinced that they actually sounded like rockstars.

Dean and Jimmy had taken a front row seat for the action and Dean hoped it wasn’t obvious how hard he was fighting the urge to get up on stage and sing. When the hour had grown late, and no one had done a decent rendition of anything in over an hour, Jimmy leaned in and said, “I’m in the mood for something sweet. Let’s go to your place and grab a slice of that pie.”

“Um, what pie?” he asked, his hazy drunken mind not keeping up.

“The lemon pie that I brought over last night?”

Dean burst out laughing. “Dude, I love that you thought there would still be some of that left!”

“I thought you lived alone,” countered Jimmy thoughtfully. “I mean, I would swear there was still half a pie when I left.”

“Half a pie,” chuckled Dean, “that’s either a promise or a dare to a man like me.”

“You really ate it all already?” marveled Jimmy.

“Dude, I ate it all before I went to bed last night,” admitted Dean, starting to feel a bit embarrassed. “I guess, well, it’s just hard for me to leave somethin’ like that alone. If I know it’s there… I want it.”

“Didn’t it give you a belly ache?”

“Small price,” he grinned, suddenly feeling a bit judged and trying to cover it with laughter.

“Well, I guess I’m not getting anything sweet tonight,” said Jimmy, gentle teasing in his tone. “Unless, you have something else to offer at your place?”

Fuck. Jimmy’s hitting on him. Fuck.

He’d wondered, from time to time, if Jimmy did dudes. Crushing on the man a bit had kept Dean hyper-focused on hints of his sexual desires. In their many nights out together, Dean had watched Jimmy leave with a ‘sure thing’ several times. Really, the man hardly had to work for it at all. Much like Dean, he traded on his looks to get what he wanted. But, despite his apparent preference for the female form, Dean had seen his friend act downright flirty with men from time to time. Until now, right this moment, he’d chalked that up to Jimmy being a handsy drunk. But now, as he looked into the man’s mischievous eyes, Dean thought it impossible to be misconstruing the subtle invitation that hid behind his words.

Wait. Wait. Fuck. Jimmy’s not hitting on him. He must be misreading this. But, what if he’s not?

“You have a craving for dessert?” he tried, deciding the best way to figure out if this was flirting or not was to simply go along with it. “Cause I’ve been told my ass is pretty sweet.”

Holding his breath, Dean watched the man’s face closely, ready to burst out laughing and plead that the whole thing was a joke if Jimmy reacted poorly to it. He didn’t. After a long and tense silence, he smiled wickedly and said, “Winchester, I’ll take a slice of that.”

Dean was stunned. Thrilled, but stunned. He’d wanted this from the very first night he met Jimmy but never thought for a second that the feeling was mutual.

In all fairness, sleeping with Jimmy would probably be a bad idea. Dean didn’t want to lose him as a friend, but if they fucked, their friendship was unlikely to survive in the aftermath.  

On the flip side of that coin, Dean knew that turning Jimmy down could have repercussions too. If he took the high road and said no, the guy might be hurt or angry because of it. That kind of tension could ruin their friendship entirely.

Actually, this was kind of a no win situation. Even if Dean could control his cock, which was highly debateable, and he managed to not to trip and fall on Jimmy’s dick, he might lose the guy’s friendship anyway. At least if he said yes, he’d get something out of it… a great night.

 

**What should he do?**

Fuck Jimmy (go to chapter 3)

Don't fuck Jimmy (go to chapter 4)


	3. Three

“A slice?” teased Dean, loving the way Jimmy’s nose crinkled as they both laughed over the cheesy line. “Fuck it,” he said, getting to his feet, “Let’s get outta here.”

The two of them each took their own cars, but Dean had to follow along behind Jim’s Camaro since he’d never been to the guy’s house before. On the drive over he had some second thoughts, but he skillfully ignored them in favor of getting something he’d been craving for weeks: a night with Jimmy.

When they parked in the driveway and got out, Dean let out a low whistle. “Damn,” he whispered, following Jim up the sidewalk, “How the fuck do you afford a car like that and a place like this on a waiter’s salary?”

“I don’t,” he answered as he let them in the front door. “I live with my brother. He’s a doctor. A specialist, actually. Orthopedics.”

Dean took a look around. They’d entered through a foyer and were now moving into a large front room. His eyes darted about, noticing the spaciousness of it, the high end furniture, and a huge flat screen that was mounted above a stone fireplace. It was quiet and clean. Dean hadn’t given much thought to what Jimmy’s place would look like, but this wasn’t what he would’ve imagined. It was impressive though, a really nice place.

“So, your brother’s loaded and he just lets you crash here?”

“I’m not crashing,” corrected Jim. “I pay the electric bill, and in a house like this one, the bill is huge. I take care of the cable and internet too. It comes out about the same as what I’d spend if I was renting a cheap apartment.”

“What’s it like living with your brother?” asked Dean as he was lead into the kitchen.

“It’s good,” replied Jimmy, “but we really don’t see much of each other since I work a lot of nights.”

Dean looked around at the stainless steel appliances, granite counters, and maple cabinets. There was a set of stools lined up along the breakfast bar and Dean slid into one as Jimmy opened the fridge and bent to look inside. It was impossible not to admire the man’s form, it was utter perfection. His face was handsome but with the tousled hair and stubble, he seemed a bit rough around the edges. Just Dean’s type.

Despite the crush he’d been nurturing for his friend, going home with Jimmy was probably a big mistake. But, his attraction was strong and he wasn’t interested in trying to do the right thing. Besides, Dean wouldn’t be Dean if his decisions were healthy and wholesome at all times.

When Jim turned away from the fridge with two beer bottles in each hand, Dean stood and closed the distance, taking two for himself and then following his friend out of the kitchen. They passed through the impressive living room and headed towards a dark hallway that Dean assumed led to the bedrooms. Before they’d even reached the hall, Dean could hear noises. Sex noises. That’s when he realized they weren’t alone in the house.

Pausing mid-stride to listen, Dean chuckled to himself. Jim turned around, a sheepish smile on his face, and said, “My brother.” He didn’t elaborate further and Dean continued to hold down his laughter as they passed the doorway from which the sensual sounds seemed to emanate.  By the time they got to Jimmy’s room, Dean couldn’t keep quiet any more.

The two were practically howling once they were safely behind a closed door in Jim’s room. As they quieted, Dean set down one of his beers and opened the other. Taking a look around, Dean thought that this space looked more suited to his friend’s personality. There were posters of his favorite bands on the wall, mostly anti-establishment music. Clothes were strewn everywhere, over chairs, across the bed. As Dean sipped his drink and poked around, Jimmy was sweeping the mess off his bed.

Spying a guitar in the corner, worn and faded strap hanging from the neck, Dean said, “I didn’t know you played.”

“Just simple stuff. I know a few tunes.”

“Let’s hear it,” he grinned.

“Hmm, usually it’s the girls that wanna hear me play. Guys usually just wanna get busy.”

“Well, I’m not in any hurry,” he said teasingly, “but if you wanna wait til after, that’s fine by me.”

“I’m going to pass out after,” replied Jim as he pulled the strap over his shoulder, “So, here’s my best song. This is the one that gets me laid when it’s not a sure thing.”

Dean plunked down on the bed, nursing his beer as Jimmy started to play. Dean recognised the song right away. It was the Plain White T’s.

“Really?” chuckled Dean, “You sing ‘Hey There Deliliah’ to the chicks you bring home?”

“It makes them want to blow me,” laughed Jimmy as he strummed the simple tune. “Works every time.”

Sitting on the bed and looking up at Jimmy as he played, Dean reached out and ran his hands up the man’s thighs. “So I see,” he whispered as he laced his fingers into belt loops and tugged.

With a smile, Jim let himself be pulled in and lifted the guitar higher. He continued to strum and sing, even as Dean was unzipping him. A feeling of excitement swept over Dean as he tugged the black slacks down, boxer briefs sliding down along with pants, a chubby cock bouncing up out of them when they were low enough. Dean licked his lips and took that cock into his mouth, sucking in just the tip and holding the rest of it between his palms as it grew in his hands. “Mmm” he hummed as Jim’s playing began to falter. It had been so long since he’d felt the weight of a stiff dick on his tongue and his mouth watered in response, filling with saliva as he plunged progressively lower and took in more of the man’s length.

“Dean,” whispered Jimmy. Hearing it, Dean realized that Jimmy hadn’t been playing. With his mouth full and his own cock tight in his pants, Dean looked up. Jim had taken the strap up over his head and was working to set down his guitar without disturbing Dean’s work.

Their eyes connected a moment later, and Dean held their gaze boldly as he hollowed his cheeks on the pull back. Feeling rough hands come to rest around his neck, Dean swelled even bigger in his pants. Hastily unzipping himself, Dean let himself be pushed backward onto the bed. He missed that dick the minute it left his mouth, but played along, lifting his legs to allow his work slacks to be tugged off for him.

They grappled each other out of the last of their clothes hungrily, and then Jimmy surprised him by bending him around until they were in sixty-nine position. “Mmm” Dean hummed again, welcoming a shiney wet cock back into his mouth just as his own was taken in hungrily. No one’s hips were still, the two of them grinding clumsily into one another’s mouths and moaning with how good it was.

With a view of Jimmy’s hairy, toned legs, Dean found his stomach growing warm and his lower body flexing as he watched his new lover’s toes curl. With one hand twisting into the sheet and the other clamped around the back of Jimmy’s neck, Dean arched his back and let his mouth go slack as his attention focused solely on his own pleasure for a moment as his partner let him thrust into his throat. Then, wanting to reciprocate, Dean doubled his efforts on the man’s rock-hard shaft. Moving his free hand to Jim’s ass, he clenched hard, gave a swat that echoed through the room, and then let his touch turn teasing as he slid fingers along the crack. He felt Jim’s full body shiver in response and zeroed in on the pucker, wiggling his fingers down in and pressing a fingertip to the tight folds of skin there.

The aching in Dean’s jaw soon became annoying despite his arousal and he backed off, letting his head fall back on the mattress and pulling Jim’s body right so that they were side by side on the bed and facing each other. Taking the man in hand, he felt Jim mirror the action. They both grinned expectantly as they began stroking each other and they were still smiling when they shared their first real kiss. In the heat of the moment, they connected their lips several times, tongues tracing the skin of chin, cheeks, and neck as they breathed each other in and tried to find their peak together.

Jim’s body was incredible and glimpses of it etched their way into Dean’s mind as they writhed on the bed. Feeling the man’s hand on his ass was thrilling and he shivered as it lingered there, gripping tightly. “I’m gonna…” whispered Jimmy, “... so close.”

Dean scooted down the bed, sucking a nipple into his mouth for a beat, nibbling the nub for moment before dropping lower. “Cum on my face,” he whispered, half crazed with lust and half embarrassed at having said that outloud.

“Fuck, Dean,” called Jimmy as he pushed up on one knee to balance over Dean’s body. He was watching from below when Jim’s huge cock swing into his view and he immediately began licking at the tip, artfully swirling his tongue and flicking at the slit. Soon a thick jet of hot jizz was shooting at him. Closing his eyes tight and opening his mouth, Dean put his hand on his own junk for the first time. Jim’s hand had gone still, obviously distracted by his own orgasm and Dean shoved it out of the way so he could jerk himself hard and fast while he took a facefull. Tasting slimy spunk on his tongue put him over the edge and he shot his own load, hard.

Afterward, Dean’s body was limp. He lay there breathing heavily while he came down from the high. Jim was trying to clean his face with a dirty t-shirt from the floor but it was useless. All he was doing was smearing it around. “Sorry, man, sorry,” he kept whispering, “I got carried away. But damn that was hot.”

“Yeah it was,” agreed Dean, rolling over onto his side and letting himself rest with his back to Jimmy for a few minutes. Jim pushed up behind him, pressing his body along Dean’s backside and dropping an arm around his waist. Dean smiled at the gesture and enjoyed their easy closeness for a minute.

Somehow, he knew it wouldn’t last. Maybe they’d be okay for tonight… hell, maybe they’d even have a few more fucks before one or the other of them moved on to someone else. But, really, this couldn’t last. It had been foolish to come here; wreckless to risk one of the first real friendships Dean had ever had just for a one-nighter. The sex had been amazing, sure, but the afterglow hadn’t even faded yet and already he knew that this had been a mistake.

Dean had grown quite comfortable with his new life… and Jim was one of his best friends in this new life. He liked the camaraderie they shared at work and the fun they all had going out after. These people he’d come out with tonight - they were his group. He’d never had one before. Honestly, that whole ‘lone wolf’ thing had been an official party line of his for so long now that he’d almost started believing the lie himself. But that’s what it was, he could see that now.

When other kids had been playing sports after school, hanging out at each other’s houses to play video games and going to school dances, Dean had been cooking supper for his younger brother. He’d been helping with homework, cleaning up dishes, and toting loads of dirty clothes to the laundromat.

Even if he had ever managed to make some friends, he wouldn’t have been able to keep them. There had simply been no time to spend doing the kinds of things that kids his age had wanted to do back then. And, since his father was an unpredictable and moody alcoholic, he’d never been able to bring anyone home either. Who knows what they would have seen or heard if he had let them in. Aside from occasional run-ins that he had managed to turn into opportunities to get laid, Dean hadn’t ever had much of a social life until now.

That’s why he shouldn’t have blown off his friendship with Jimmy for sex. It was just too important. Suddenly, all Dean could think of was how sorry he was that he’d even come here. Things would never be the same between them now and he couldn’t help but feel regret for what he’d lost.

Jim didn’t seem worried though. He was calm and affectionate, treating Dean well. Eventually he got up and returned with a warm washcloth for Dean’s face. They leaned up on the headboard and sipped cool beers while they shared a cigarette. Invited to stay, Dean fell asleep in the man’s huge bed, glad things seemed okay between them for now, but still a bit sad deep down.

It just seemed that he was never really able to talk himself out of anything he wanted… not a second (or third) slice of pie, not some quick money, or an easy lay. And now, here he was again, in the aftermath of doing something regrettable, when he’d known ahead of time that it was a bad fucking idea. If there was an angel perched on his shoulder, it needed to be louder.

Waking in the middle of the night to piss, Dean figured he may as well get going. If he left now, he could wake up in his own bed and avoid the inevitable awkwardness that would settle over them when daylight came. An added bonus, if he left now, he’d be home to get a shower before work.

With that in mind, Dean got up carefully from the bed, not disturbing Jim. He intended to use the bathroom, maybe wash up a bit while he was in there, and then quietly pick up his clothes which were scattered around Jimmy’s room.

However, on his way back from the bathroom, Dean heard something and froze like a statue in the middle of the hallway. A whisper and then a soft moan carried down the hall followed by obvious sex noises… or jacking off noises. Dean wasn’t sure. But the sound of lube and skin squelching was unmistakeable. Yeah, it sounded like someone jacking off with too much lube.

This door had been closed when Dean arrived hours ago. He’d tip-toed past it with Jimmy, chuckling at the vulgar sex noises that had been leaking out into the hall.

Now, on his way back from the bathroom, Dean found himself poised outside that same door and hearing the same noises. But that couldn’t be right, could it? Heading back to Jim’s room, Dean checked the time. Yep, it had been three hours since he’d first heard sex noises coming from Jimmy’s brother’s room.

Dean’s body may be worn out, but he was still enticed by the gasps, moans, and begging that carried down the hall. He wasn’t sure if this was marathon sex or perhaps a second helping in the middle of the night, but either way, Dean was unable to keep from chuckling about it as he stumbled over the messy floor in Jim’s room.

“What’s funny?” asked a groggy Jim from the bed.

“Um, your brother I guess. He’s still at it in there.”

“Oh, yeah, he does that,” replied Jimmy, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “He’s pretty heavy into the BDSM scene - especially edging.”

“Edging? What’s that?”

“You know, just keeping someone at the edge and not letting them cum.”

“Is that kinda like Tantric sex?” asked Dean, locating his shirt and pulling it back on over his head.

“I don’t know, maybe,” answered Jim, grabbing Dean’s shoes from the floor by his feet and handing them over. “You’ll have to google it if you’re curious. It’s his thing not mine. I just want to cum. I don’t want to spend three hours crying and begging for it first.”

“Fuck,” whispered Dean as he sat down on the bed and began putting his socks and shoes on.

“Don’t tell me you’re into it,” laughed Jimmy, pulling his leg up onto the bed as he swiveled to look at Dean in the dark.

“No,” whispered Dean in response. “Hell no,” He added, hoping his firm tone would cover the lie.

“You’re a shitty liar,” chuckled Jim.  “His real name is Cas, but he calls himself Dr. Cum Control,” added Jimmy. “Makes videos and posts them online. He’s super secretive about it; it’s hilarious.”

“Fuck,” whispered Dean again as he laced up his shoes, “so all this time… he’s been in there with the same person… and that person still hasn’t come?”

“Dean - this is my brother we’re talking about. Cut me a break, huh?”

“Yeah, sorry man,” he said repentantly.

“Hey,” added Jim, grabbing Dean by the back of his neck and pulling him in, “this was great. Let’s not make it weird, ok?”

“Yeah,” agreed Dean. He’d known this was coming, but it still stung a little. But then, Jim closed the marginal distance between them and gave him a soft peck on the lips. It was sweet and there was genuine affection behind the action, he could feel it.

“See you at work,” said Jimmy when he pulled away.

Dean got up from the bed and headed for the door. “Thanks for tonight,” he whispered as he crossed the room.

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“You can crash on the couch if you, um, don’t feel like driving home.”

Dean glanced over at his friend and saw a knowing smile on the guy’s face. Jimmy had his number… knew he was intrigued by the edging. He was offering Dean a chance to stick around and meet his brother. He chuckled at the absurdity of the gesture, but appreciated the kindness and acceptance behind it.

“Goodnight Dean,” called Jimmy in a teasing voice. Turning back as he walked out the door, Dean saw the teasing, knowing look on his friend’s face and tried to play it cool. After all, he had no intention of accepting the offer.

But then, he walked past that closed door again and heard the salacious sounds coming from the other side of it.

Yeah, no matter how shitty of a person it would make him, Dean couldn’t deny that he actually did want to stay. He was willing to crash, fully clothed, for the rest of the night on a stranger’s couch, just to catch a glimpse of Dr. Cum Control in the morning.  

  


**What should he do?**  

Stick around in hopes of meeting Jim’s brother (go to chapter 5) 

Leave now and pretend not to be curious (go to chapter 6)


	4. Four

Dean’s heart was skittering around in his chest and his stomach quivered in delight as he pictured his body tangling together with Jimmy’s. “A slice, huh?” chuckled Dean, stalling for time so he could think. He wanted it to happen, there was no denying it. But, would it be worth ruining a friendship over? Worth having to feel self conscious at work? No, probably not.

One night wouldn’t be worth losing what he had with Jimmy now. Dean had grown quite comfortable with his new life… and Jim was one of his best friends in this new life. He liked the camaraderie they shared at work and the fun they all had going out after. These people he’d come to the bar with tonight - they were his group. He’d never had one before. Honestly, that whole ‘lone wolf’ thing had been an official party line of his for so long now, that he’d almost started believing the lie himself. But that’s what it was, he could see that now.

When other kids had been playing sports after school, hanging out at each other’s houses to play video games, and going to school dances, Dean had been cooking supper for his younger brother. He’d been helping with homework, cleaning up dishes, and toting loads of dirty clothes to the laundromat.

Even if he’d managed to make some friends, he’d never have been able to keep them. He had no time to spend doing the things that kids his age would’ve wanted to do. And, since his father was an unpredictable and moody alcoholic, he’d never been able to bring anyone home either. Who knows what they would have seen or heard if he had let them in. Aside from occasional run-ins that he had managed to turn into opportunities to get laid, Dean hadn’t ever had much of a social life until now.

That’s why he couldn’t shrug off the friendship for sex. It was just too important to him. Dean had his own place now, a place where his father didn’t ruin things when people came over. He liked his jobs and his friends, dammit, he liked his _life_. It was good.

Feeling resolved, Dean turned apologetic eyes toward Jimmy. Trying hard to avoid damaging the man’s pride, he admitted his desire. “I’d be a fuckin’ liar if I said I didn’t want to. But it’s not a good idea. I mean, not if we’re gonna stay friends. And if we go there… we’re not gonna.”

Watching his friend’s face carefully, Dean waited for his reaction. “Sure man,” replied Jimmy. The words were stiff, but not with anger. In fact, that perfectly sculpted face appeared almost confused. It was like he’d never been shot down before… maybe he hadn’t. The thought made Dean want to chuckle. He locked it down though, not wanting Jimmy to feel like Dean was laughing at him. However, the corner of his mouth tugged a little, despite his best efforts.

A beat later, Jimmy was getting up. Dean wanted to ask him where he was going, nervous that perhaps he’d ruined everything. But Jimmy favored him with a smile. “You know, I’m just gonna want it more now that you’ve said no.”

Dean burst out laughing. He did know. “Not why I said it man, I swear.”

“Don’t worry about it,” reassured Jimmy. “It’s all good. But,” sighed Jimmy as he glanced around the room, “I’m headin’ out.”

“And miss all this?” teased Dean, gesturing toward the stage where Jo Harvelle was rasping out a throaty, drunken rendition of Pat Benatar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot.”

“Yeah, well, this scene runs a distant second behind watching a war documentary and sipping a stale beer.

“Well fuck, at least spring for decent beer.”

“Hey,” responded Jimmy, his face lighting up in a genuine smile. “Why not come with me?”

“Where?”

“My place.”

Dean must’ve looked like an oaf with his mouth hanging halfway open, but he was stunned. That is, until Jimmy clarified things.

“Dude, relax. I wasn’t trying to get in your pants again. I just figured that if you were as bored here as I was, we could have a couple beers and just hang out. Friends. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Yeah -

“Well, c’mon then. Or, did you want to stay here…” a wide grin spread of Jimmy’s face and his tone grew teasing as he said, “Hey man, I don’t judge. If you’re secretly enjoying this and want to stay… I’m cool with it. You can even get up there if you want. Sing a nice duet with one of the girls? Your secret’s safe with me Winchester.”

Dean was grinning as he got to his feet. “Fuck off Jimmy, let’s go.”

The two of them each took their own cars, but Dean had to follow his friend since he’d never been to the guy’s house before. When they parked in the driveway and got out, Dean let out a low whistle. “Damn,” he whispered, following Jim up the sidewalk, “How the fuck do you afford this place on a waiter’s salary?”

“I don’t,” he answered as he let them in the front door. “I live with my brother. He’s a doctor. A specialist, actually. Orthopedics.”

Dean took a look around. They’d entered through a foyer and were now moving into a large front room. His eyes darted about, noticing the spaciousness of it, the high end furniture, and a huge flat screen that was mounted above a stone fireplace. It was quiet and clean. Dean hadn’t given much thought to what Jimmy’s place would look like, but this wasn’t what he would’ve imagined. It was impressive though, a really nice place.

“So, you’re brother’s loaded and he just lets you crash here?”

“I’m not crashing,” corrected Jim. “I pay the electric bill, and in a house like this one, the bill is huge. I take care of the cable and internet too. It comes out about the same as what I’d spend if I was renting a cheap apartment.”

“What’s it like living with your brother?” asked Dean as he was lead into the kitchen.

“It’s good,” replied Jimmy, “but we really don’t see much of each other since I work a lot of nights.”

Dean looked around at the stainless steel appliances, granite counters, and maple cabinets. There was a set of stools lined up along the breakfast bar and Dean slid into one as his friend knocked about the kitchen. Then, with drinks in hand, they walked back into the front room.

As they headed for the couch, Dean heard sounds coming from the adjacent hallway. He paused mid-stride to listen, curious, because it sure sounded like sex noises coming from down the hallway. Jim must’ve heard the noises too because he turned to look at Dean sheepishly. “I guess the doctor is in,” he joked, reaching for the remote.

Turning on the television successfully drowned out the soft sounds of pleasure they’d overheard and soon the moment was forgotten. Flipping channels for a bit, the two talked about their favorite shows, lingering occasionally to watch a little bit of this and that. As the hour grew later, they had a few more drinks, snacked on junk food, and eventually wound up laughing their asses off as they watched a stand-up comedian. Dean didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until his bladder woke him.

Lifting his heavy head, he could see that he wasn’t the only one. Jim was sleeping too, still in the same position he’d been in before, stretched out with his feet up on the coffee table. The beer he’d been nursing was still in his grip, but it was tipping a bit. Dean reached over and lifted it gently from the man’s hands. Setting it on the coffee table, Dean got up and headed down the hall where he assumed he’d find a bathroom.

He was about two strides down the hall when he heard a moan. Pausing mid-stride, Dean held his breath and waited. A moment later he heard whispers, and then another moan. Oh yeah, this is definitely the sound of two people fucking. Grinning in the dark, Dean hurried down the hall and into the bathroom. He used the facilities and then headed back out into the hall. Returning to the living room in haste, Dean worked to hold down his laughter and the giddy feeling in his chest.

When he got back to the couch, Jim was gone and the room was empty. The television was off. He headed to the kitchen, the only room he knew in this enormous house, and that’s where he found Jimmy. His friend was cleaning up the mess they’d made on the counter earlier.

“Hey,” whispered Dean, practically giggling, “I think you’re brother’s going for the record.”

Turning to face him, Jimmy chuckled and asked, “He’s still up?”

“Oh he’s **_up_ ** alright,” laughed Dean.

“Cas, my brother, he's really into BDSM,” explained Jim with a wry grin, “mostly edging. It makes for some long nights.”

“Edging?”

“Yeah, you know, just keeping a person on edge… making them wait. I guess he gets off on it.”

“Is that kind of like tantric sex?”

Jimmy looked thoughtful for a moment and then shrugged saying, “I don’t know. Maybe? It’s his thing not mine. I just want to cum - not cry and beg for it for three hours first.”

“Fuck,” whispered Dean, his body immediately interested. “I mean, it’s not like I live under a rock. I know what BDSM is,” replied Dean, following Jimmy as he turned off the light and exited the kitchen, “but I’ve never heard of edging.”

“He makes videos and posts them online,” added Jim with an eye roll, “Calls himself Dr. Cum Control.”

“Fuck,” Dean whispered again as they moved back out into the living room.

“Don’t tell me you’re interested,” chuckled Jimmy.

“No,” he said firmly, hoping to cover the lie in his voice.

“Well, you kind of look interested,” laughed Jimmy, grabbing a throw pillow from the couch and chucking it at him.

“I might be a little curious,” admitted Dean.

“Well, I’m heading to bed,” said Jimmy. “You can sleep on the couch if you don’t feel like driving home.”

“Might take you up on that,” Dean replied, dropping lazily back onto the couch. Honestly, he could’ve driven home. But, he was more than a little intrigued with the idea of sticking around long enough to meet Dr. Cum Control in the flesh. He had questions, and not just about the edging. Dean wanted to know what this sex-god looked like, how he walked. With his mind already churning in speculation, a face to face meeting seemed too enticing to pass up.

 

 **What should Dean do?**  

Stick around in hopes of meeting Jim’s brother (go to chapter 5)  
Leave now and pretend not to be curious (go to chapter 6)


	5. Five

Jimmy had given him a knowing smirk as he said goodnight and headed back to his room, and Dean hated himself a little for being so transparent. Tugging a blanket down from the back of the couch, Dean wrapped himself up and got comfortable. His body may have been still, but his mind was churning with sexy images and his imagination shifted into overdrive whenever the sounds of someone else’s pleasure drifted in from the other room.

Whoever was in that bedroom with Jimmy’s brother had been in heaven for hours and Dean was jealous, curious, and horny as hell. He had no idea how much time had gone by when he heard the click of a door opening down the hall. Eager to catch a glimpse of ‘the doctor’ Dean poked his head out from under his blanket and craned his neck to see.

From the dark hall emerged a tall man with a pinched expression on his face. He was weighed down with a huge bag slung over his shoulder. He carried some kind of heavy duty case in his right hand while dragging another behind him. It had wheels and glided smoothly over the carpet as the silent man passed by the couch without acknowledging Dean at all. Half sitting up now, Dean watched over the back of the sofa as the man exited via the front door, locking it behind him.

Dean was even more curious now. Rolling over and trying to get more comfortable, he continued to stare down the hallway expectantly. But, he never heard the door open again. At some point, groggy with sleep, he did hear the front door click again. He sat straight up and turned his head to follow the sound, blinking bleary eyes as he tried to focus on the entrance. Apparently someone else had left without being seen. Flopping back down on the couch, Dean unhappily surrendered to sleep.

The loud and grating sound of a blender was his wake up call. Early morning sun was filtering through the windows and Dean sat up slowly. Putting feet on the floor, he took stock of himself. He was definitely low on sleep and his body was fatigued with hangover. Getting to his feet, Dean tossed his blanket over the back of the couch and scrubbed the crust from his eyes as he staggered to the kitchen.

“Dude,” he croaked as he approached Jimmy, “what fuckin’ time is it?”

Jimmy cocked his head to the side in confusion as if Dean had suddenly begun speaking French. “It is six am. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“S’okay,” husked Dean as he settled at a bar stool. Then, as he began to really wake up, he blinked at Jim and noticed his clean shaven face and neatly combed hair. “Man, I never pegged you for an early riser.”

“Have we met?”

“W-What?”

“I’m Cas,” said the man, leaning over the counter and extending his hand as if to shake.

Dean took the proffered hand and shook it, willing his brain to work faster. “Cas?” he repeated, “I don’t -

“I’m Jim’s brother. Cas. Cas is short for Castiel. I’m not sure what name he mentioned when he spoke of me.”

_The Doctor. Dr. Cum Control._

“Dean,” he replied, realizing that this was an introduction. Jimmy didn’t just have a brother, he had a _twin_ brother.

“Ah yes,” smiled Cas, pulling a glass down from an adjacent cabinet. “You’re new in town, right?”

“Yeah, been here about two months,” he answered, trying to collect himself as he self-consciously used his palm to try and smooth down what he could only assume was wild bed head.

“What do you think of Pontiac so far?”

“S’okay,” he answered, still rattled by the unexpected introduction and trying to keep up. Looking up at the man again, Dean saw that he was being handed a glass. He accepted it gratefully and took a sip. It was cold. Sweet. Smooth.

Cas was looking at him as though he was a school science project. “Is that pineapple?” Dean asked, inquiring about the smoothie he’d just been given.

“Yes, and mango with yogurt and protein powder.”

“S’good. Thanks.”

“Fuck Cas, do have to run that thing at a quarter to ass in the morning?” The sound of Jimmy’s rough voice from behind him startled Dean and he jerked on his stool as he turned to see his friend staggering into the kitchen. He looked every bit as bad as Dean felt and he chuckled as he watched Cas try to hand him a smoothie. Jim waved it off and pushed past his brother, his twin brother, to the refrigerator. Pulling a carton of milk from the fridge, he tipped his head back and drank straight from it.

Flicking his eyes over to Cas, Dean could see that the action was irritating to the man but he didn’t speak of it. Looking back over at Jim, Dean watched him pull down a bowl and fill it with Froot Loops and milk. Coming to perch on the stool next to him, Jim didn’t look at Dean when he said, “I see you’ve met my brother, the doctor.”

“I hate when you introduce me like that,” snapped Cas. “It’s ambiguous and makes me wonder what you’ve been telling people about me.”

“I told him you were a doctor,” said Jim as he dug into his cereal. Dean could feel his cheeks reddening. He was awake enough now to read between the lines and understand exactly what the two brothers were saying to each other. Cas was wondering if Jimmy had told Dean about his extracurricular activities and in the long silence that followed, Dean realized that Jim was all too happy to let his brother wonder. Far too embarrassed to look up at Cas, he focused on the drink he’d been given instead.

“Is that your car in the driveway?” asked Cas.

Dean looked up knowing the question had to be directed at him. But, he was having trouble meeting eyes with the man as he answered, “Yeah.”

“It suits you.”

He had to wonder if the man was just trying to find some way of the changing the subject, but he couldn’t help himself. He loved when people noticed his car, his baby. “Yeah,” he replied, finding the courage to look the man in they eye. The brothers Novak both had the same intense blue eyes that Dean had been secretly crushing on for weeks and as he met Cas’s gaze, a current of desire snaked up his spine. “It’s a 67,” he said, trying to overcome his nerves.

“I like it.”

Dean perked up immediately, smiling widely before he could help himself. Unable to stop his mouth, which had run away without his brain, Dean replied a beat too quickly saying, “Maybe we should go for a ride sometime.”

On the bar stool next to him, Jimmy burst out laughing and blew milk out of his nose. Dean felt the blood rush to his face in embarrassment. He wanted to die. He couldn’t bear to look up at Cas who was standing across the breakfast bar from where he and Jimmy were seated. He sat there feeling small for a moment, his shoulders curving in on himself as he turned a cold glass between his hands and wished he could just drop through the floor.

The sound of an empty glass being thumped down on the counter finally brought Dean’s eyes up. Cas was looking at Jimmy as he crossed the kitchen. Leaving the room he said, “Have a nice day, Jim. It was nice to meet you, Dean.” And then he was gone. Dean relaxed in his seat and resumed drinking his breakfast.

Dean couldn’t look over at Jim when he asked.  “Got any aspirin?”

Sadly, Dean’s shame in the kitchen that morning wasn’t quickly forgotten. Jim continued to tease him through their entire shift that night. Somehow, during the course of their shift, he’d managed to get every single staff member to come over and ask Dean for a ride in his Impala. On one hand, it was miserable to be reminded of his poor showing in the kitchen that morning. On the other hand, he found that it was reassuring to be teased by his friend. This kind of razzing hadn’t been part of their relationship before now. In hindsight, Dean realized how tentative things had been between him and Jimmy. It was as if, now that sex was off the table, Jim was being more real with him. Dean couldn’t help but like it… it was almost like having his brother around.

When he got home from the bar that night, Dean settled in at his computer and googled Dr. Cum Control. He did a lot of scanning, sorting, clicking and then hitting the back button. He learned a lot about BDSM in general, edging and its various embodiments, and he even found Cas’s dedicated website. It was very professionally done considering that Cas had likely set it up himself. There were dozens and dozens of videos to watch, an FAQ page, and even a submission box for people who wanted to be in a video.

Dean gobbled up everything, pausing twice to jerk off before finally throwing in the towel and going to sleep just as the sun was rising. Work sucked that day, being so short on sleep, but he was immediately back on the computer afterwards. He made the most of the 45 minutes between his day at the shop and his night at the restaurant. Choosing a video he’d started the night before, he shucked his jeans down to his knees and grasped himself tightly, jerking his cock roughly with two spit-slick fingers buried in his ass, panting and desperate to hurry up and cum before he had to leave for his second job.

It was like that all week. Dean wasn’t himself. He cut his nights at the bar short, eager to get home and watch videos. He didn’t hook up with anyone, much preferring to watch Cas tease the fuck out of someone while he got himself off.

Two weeks went by and even as a devoted fan, he’d still only watched about half of the videos. There were many, and they were long, despite being very professionally edited down. Though each video was unique, they all had several things in common.

First, no one’s face was ever shown. The subject of the video, usually restrained, was shown only from the neck down. The doctor, shown minimally, seemed to wear a black hood. There were only a few glimpses of it, but it seemed likely that it was worn for those accidental moments when his head might bob into the frame by accident. Yep. Dr. Cum Control was VERY protective of his identity. No wonder he’d been incensed at the idea that his brother may have told someone of his hobby.

Second, most the subjects of these videos all had a similar body type. Slim, young, tan, minimal body hair. Clearly, the doctor had a type. Sadly, Dean wasn’t really it. He was close, but no cigar. Body hair? Yep. Waxing wasn’t his thing. Slim? Nope. He had a nice body and he knew it. But, thanks to his junk food habit, he did have the start of a belly. In fact, he often found himself trying to hide it by standing up straighter and holding tension in his abs.

Third, the word ‘sir’. All of the guests in the Dr. Cum Control videos used it when speaking to Cas. Sometimes it was a whisper, sometimes it was a grunt, occasionally it was a desperate word that was garbled beyond recognition. But when Dean heard the word ‘Sir’ now, he always thought of Cas.

Last, but certainly not least, were the hands. Castiel had magic hands. The way they hovered attentively, attuned to every breath, every twitch of the stomach, every flex of muscle, always artfully tending to the needs of his subject; it was something Dean had never seen before. He couldn’t help it… he was spellbound. He watched those hands closely, the way they molded themselves perfectly to the shape of a man’s cock before they even slid down over it, the way they seemed to know exactly when to pull away, and the way they waited on the sidelines, poised to return, ready to deliver sensual pleasure and then deny a climax the moment it threatened to present itself.

It had been weeks since Dean had been laid, but he’d never been more sexually fulfilled. Sadly, he’d never made it through even the shortest of videos, simply unable to restrain himself. He’d chase his pleasure down with a heavy hand, imagine being the one tied down and touched by those magic hands, and inevitably he’d blow his load too soon. It was almost pathetic.

One night, as he was trying to choose which video to watch, he found himself preoccupied with the submission box. More than anything, he wanted to be at the mercy of Dr. Cum Control. He wanted to call the man Sir while he writhed against his restraints. He wanted to know what it felt like to be forced to wait, and to watch the hands he coveted hover over him expectantly. For the first time, he considered putting his name into the submission box.

Even just thinking about it, he was overwhelmed with lust and had to sit back and jerk himself off. In the aftermath, as he waited for his breathing to return to normal, Dean wondered if he should bother. He already knew he wasn’t the doctor’s type. But, there were a few videos peppered into Cas’ collective works that broke the mold and Dean figured that was a small sign to hope… perhaps he’d be the rare exception.

Sadly, Dean also knew there was a chance he’d be recognized as the goofy friend of Jimmy’s who’d tried to make a play for Cas at six in the morning, the first time they’d met. But, honestly, that had been weeks ago. And, he’d not really looked the man in the eye much. It was very possible that he’d not be remembered. It was equally possible that even if Cas did remember Dean’s face, he might still be inclined to indulge him just out of fear that his secret identity was in jeopardy.

Leaning forward, Dean set his fingers to the keyboard and began to type his submission. He must’ve deleted twenty drafts when an idea hit him out of nowhere. He could submit as someone else… keep his identity a secret. That would give him a good idea of what it was like to interview which, according to the FAQ page, was the second step of the process to be considered for a video. Pulling a decent picture of Benny from his phone, Dean attached it to the submission and sat there staring at it.

  
  


**What should Dean do?**

Contact Dr. Cum Control secretly, using Benny’s name as an alias (go to chapter 7)

Contact Dr. Cum Control honestly, as himself (go to chapter 8)


	6. Six

Knowing that he could get away with sleeping on the couch was tempting. Very tempting. Dean definitely wanted to meet ‘the doctor’. But, since he was still feeling satisfied from his earlier tryst with Jimmy, he was able to do what felt right this time: just keep walking once he got past the hallway. He closed the entry door quietly behind him and headed for his car. Turning the key in his ignition, Dean cringed at how loud his baby was at this hour in such a quiet suburb.

Once he got home, he went straight to his computer and googled Dr. Cum Control. It felt like the blink of an eye and it was dawn. Dean’s ass was dragging like an old tired dog at work the next day, but it had been worth it. He learned a lot about BDSM in general, edging and its various embodiments, and he even found Cas’s dedicated website.

It was very professionally done considering that Cas had likely set it up himself. There were dozens and dozens of videos to watch, an FAQ page, and even a submission box for people who wanted to be in a video.

Dean gobbled up everything, pausing twice to jerk off before heading to the shop for work. Benny noticed his exhaustion and gave him shit for it, which Dean took in stride. Then, after work, he immediately returned to his computer screen. He definitely made the most of the 45 minutes between his day at the shop and his night at the restaurant.

Choosing a video he’d started the night before, he shucked his jeans down to his knees and grasped himself tightly, jerking his cock roughly with two spit-slick fingers buried in his ass, panting and desperate to hurry up and cum before he had to leave for his second job. It was like that all week.

Dean wasn’t himself. He cut his nights at the bar short, eager to get home and watch more videos. He didn’t hook up with anyone, much preferring to watch Cas tease the fuck out of a stranger while he got himself off.

He’d been nervous as he drove to work that first night, wondering how things would be between him and Jimmy now that their relationship had changed a bit. His fear culminated as he stepped into the kitchen of Bernardi’s and came face to face with Jo. She asked him, quite candidly, where he and Jimmy had run off to the night before. Out of nowhere, Jim had swooped into the conversation like Tarzan on a vine and whispered something salacious in Jo’s ear. Dean had stood there watching as a wicked grin had spread across her face. Jimmy warned her to keep that dirty little secret to herself and smacked her ass as he walked away from her.

It was impossible not to appreciate the man’s charisma, as well as its obvious effect on Jo. Throughout their shift that night Jim showed Dean that he need not fear for their friendship. If anything, perhaps it was stronger now.

In fact, over the next week Dean noticed a new element to their camaraderie - ruthless teasing. Dean hadn’t really noticed how tentative and superficial their relationship had been before. But now that sex was off the table, they were more comfortable around one another and no subject was off limits… even Dean’s lack of a sex life.

“C’mon,” teased Jimmy one night at the bar, “you’ve gone home alone every night for weeks.” Around the table there was a chorus of animated agreement as his group of friends all confirmed that they’d noticed him ‘not getting any’. There were several half-joking offers to help him get through his dry spell, but none appealed at all.

Two weeks had gone by and still, Dean was more interested in Cas than anyone he could actually have in real life. But, even as a devoted fan, he’d still only watched about half of the videos. There were many, and they were long, despite being very professionally edited down. Though each video was unique, they all had a few things in common.

First, no one’s face was ever shown. The subject of the video, usually restrained, was shown only from the neck down. The doctor, shown minimally, seemed to wear a black hood. There were only a few glimpses of it, but it seemed likely that it was worn for those accidental moments when his head might bob into the frame by accident. Yep. Dr. Cum Control was VERY protective of his identity.

Second, all the subjects of these videos all had a similar body type. Slim, young, tan, minimal body hair. Clearly, the doctor had a type. Sadly, Dean wasn’t really it. He was close, but no cigar. Body hair? Yep. Waxing wasn’t his thing. Slim? Nope. He had a nice body and he knew it. But, thanks to his junk food habit, he did have the start of a belly. But, his pudge would disappear if he stood straight and held tension in his abs, which he did when he knew he was being checked out.

Third, the word ‘sir’. All of the guests in the Dr. Cum Control videos used it when speaking to Cas. Sometimes it was a whisper, sometimes it was a grunt, occasionally it was a desperate word that was garbled beyond recognition. But when Dean heard the word ‘Sir’ now, he always thought of Cas.

Last, but certainly not least, were the hands. Castiel had magic hands. The way they hovered attentively, attuned to every ragged breath, every twitch of each sweaty stomach, every flex of muscle, always artfully tending to the needs of his subject; it was something Dean had never seen before. He couldn’t help it… he was spellbound.

He watched those hands closely, the way they molded themselves perfectly to the shape of a man’s cock before they even slid down over it, the way they seemed to know exactly when to pull away, and the way they waited on the sidelines, poised to return, ready to deliver sensual pleasure and then deny a climax the moment it threatened to present itself. His friends were right, it had been weeks since Dean had been laid. But honestly, he’d never been more sexually fulfilled.

Dean thought of himself as getting off with Cas, even though he was just watching on a screen. In reality they weren’t getting off together at all because Dr. Cum Control never came during the videos. Often, he wasn’t even hard. Dean knew this because he watched closely.

The subject, usually naked and bound in some way, was the focal point. Cas’ body was hardly in the frame at all, sometimes only his hands were in the shot and maybe just his knee or an elbow. But, with his attention riveted primarily on Cas’ hands, Dean found himself preoccupied with the bits and pieces he could see of this mysterious man. Whenever a glimpse of upper arm or thigh found it’s way onto the screen, Dean’s eyes would focus intently and miss no detail. He ached sometimes as he waited for a tiny peek at the vee between Dr. Cum Control’s legs, frustrated and longing to know if Cas was hard or not.

Sadly, he’d never made it through even the shortest of videos, simply unable to restrain himself. He’d chase his pleasure down with a heavy hand, imagining himself as the one tied down and touched by those doting hands, and inevitably he’d blow his load too soon. It was almost pathetic. But, he was so enthralled that even after he came, Dean would often continue to watch as Dr. Cum Control put these men through the paces.

The subject on screen would bend and twist against the restraints, begging for more, hoping to come. Cas would give them what they asked for and bring them to the edge. Then, as they whispered and moaned, “Sir, sir, sir,” Cas would pull his hands away in retreat. Sometimes, as his subject hovered on the precipice, Cas would stroke their thigh or their stomach, reassuring touches that carried the men on a hazy cloud of euphoria without driving them closer to their end.

When a man came, Cas would play in the jizz. It was fun to watch. He almost never touched a man while he was coming, allowing the cum to either blast from their tip or spill slowly over the crown without interference. Cockrings were almost always used, and the Sub would stay hard after blowing up. Then, aside from the moments he allowed himself for running fingers and palms through puddles of viscous pearly fluid, Cas would start again, allowing his partner almost no rest before working him into a frenzy again. And again.

Sometimes, the doctor would slip his middle finger inside tight pucker and curl it repeatedly to milk pleasure as he used his other hand to tickle gentle fingers over shaft and sack. Dean loved seeing the man work. He was an artist.

The videos Dean was watching weren’t made especially for him, they were made for public consumption. But that didn’t seem to matter to Dean. As far as he was concerned, he was getting off with Cas. Every time. For Dean, the experience was deeply personal.

He was no longer living at the Fiesta motel, but he still had breakfast there occasionally. Benny was in there almost every morning, so if he had a craving for a hearty breakfast he could go to the diner knowing that Benny would probably be there to share a booth with him. Since his discovery of Dr. Cum Control, however, his appearances at the diner had been dwindling in number. Really, he hadn’t noticed it until Benny pointed it out.

When Dean walked in one morning, he’d seen his friend right away, perched on a barstool near the cash register and talking to Lizzy.

“Well, lookit what the cat dragged in,” said Benny. “Figured you’ve been havin’ breakfast with someone else these days, Winchester.”

“You’re still my only breakfast buddy,” chuckled Dean as he sat down.

“What’ll it be Dean?” asked Elizabeth politely.

“Waffles,” he said without hesitation. She filled his coffee with a smile and pivoted away from them to go put in his order. When she returned, she dropped a warm ceramic plate down in front of him along with a little pitcher of syrup.

“Oh, I know that look,” she said teasingly. “Who’s the lucky duck?”

“Huh?”

“Oh sugar, you can’t play innocent with me. You’ve got it bad… it’s all over your face.”

“What? What’s all over my face?” He was playing dumb of course, he knew exactly what she meant. The syrupy tone of her voice implied it much more strongly than her actual words.

“Who is it?” she pressed. In response, Dean waved her off but sadly, Benny joined her.

“Is that why you been MIA for about a dozen happy hours and two poker games? You got a hot piece o’ ass on repeat?”

“Benny,” scolded Elizabeth, “you make it sound so romantic.”

She rolled her eyes as she walked away and when she was out of earshot, Benny leaned in a little and softly asked, “Am I right? You got a fish on the hook?”

“I’ve got a fish, alright,” said Dean sarcastically, “It just doesn’t know I’m alive.” He’d not realized he was sad about the situation until that moment. The mood stayed with him all day as he worked. At the restaurant that night, the girls kept asking him what was wrong so he assumed his melancholy was showing. He brushed them off saying he was just tired. But, apparently, he couldn’t fool Jimmy.

Sharing a cigarette with him in the alley behind the restaurant, Jim leaned up against the brick wall with him. He didn’t press Dean for words the way the girls had. He simply made his presence known, let Dean feel his friendship. It was nice. After work, however, he seemed intent on taking Dean’s mind off his troubles. With alcohol. He dragged Dean back to his place and poured the first of many shots at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. As they drank, they played ‘I Never’. Dean was getting sloppy in his seat and dirty with his questions when the earth suddenly turned upside down.

“Hello Jim, don’t let me intrude, I’m just getting some water.”

“Cas,” said Jim, “This is Dean.”

“Hello Dean.”

“N-Nice to meet you,” he stammered. Then he looked back at Jimmy, trying to keep his features normal and his voice low as he said, “Twins? You guys are…”

“Twins, yeah, we’re twins.”

“I don’t know what I pictured, but it wasn’t…

Jimmy’s face went from one of questioning and uncertainty to one of understanding. He must’ve connected the dots and realized that Dean had indeed researched edging and looked up the Dr. Cum Control videos.

It was suddenly very warm in the kitchen and Dean found himself wiping his forehead on his sleeve. Cas, with his back to them, was working at the counter, slicing up a lemon. Dean watched the set of his shoulders and the way his tailored shirt hugged his trim body. His movements were precise and Dean hadn’t realized he was staring until Jim leaned in to continue their game, whispering “I never crushed on anybody’s brother.”

Feeling his face redden, Dean glanced at his friend for a beat. Cas either hadn’t noticed them whispering like school girls or he hadn't cared. Either way, he wasn’t looking so Dean did his duty and tossed back a shot. 

“Stare at him harder,” teased Jimmy relentlessly.

“Dude!” whispered Dean, his face growing hot.

Fuck. The bastard was enjoying Dean's discomfort a bit too much.

Just then, Cas turned from the counter with a glass of water in each hand, a perfect circle of lemon floating on the surface of each. He nodded an amiable greeting towards both of them and walked past. Embarrassed and frustrated with himself, Dean let his eyes drop to the drink in his hands. It took a long time for him to look up again and when he did, Jim was staring at him as though he were an exhibit at the zoo.

“Man, you embarrass easy. Your cheeks are so red.”

Over the next few days, Dean got used to having seen Cas. The videos were different to him now and not just because he knew what Dr. Cum Control looked like. It was different because he was a twin… because he had a face that Dean knew well and a body that Dean had spent a great deal of time in close proximity to. He didn’t need to actually make Cas laugh to know that his nose would crinkle when he did. The men probably had the same hands… ho-ly shit.

At first, Dean assumed that the videos would be ruined for him now that the mystery of what Dr. Cum Control looked like was solved. But he soon came to realize that wasn’t the case. In fact, now that he knew what Cas looked like in real life, his desires were even more intense. Now, more than ever, Dean wanted to be restrained under those hands. One night, as he was trying to choose which video to watch, he found himself preoccupied with the submission box.

Even thinking about putting his name in the ask box, Dean was overwhelmed with lust and had to sit back and jerk himself off. In the aftermath, as he waited for his breathing to return to normal, Dean wondered if he should even bother. Most of the men in the videos were of similar build, so clearly the doctor had a type and Dean wasn’t it.

He also knew there was a chance he’d be recognised now that he’d been seen with Jimmy, and  be rejected solely because he was friends with the guys brother. Dean wasn’t keen on inviting opportunities for Cas to shoot him down and then tell his brother that some stalker from Bernardi’s had tried to weasel his way into a video.

Just when he’d almost talked himself into abandoning the submission all together, an idea came to him. It was almost too simple. The downside was, it sounded like the plot of a ridiculous romantic comedy where the stars find themselves in an impossibly contrived situation. But, regardless of how foolish this idea was, Dean set his fingers to the keyboard and began to type. He must’ve deleted twenty drafts when he finally managed to put something together that seemed passable. The next screen was where he was meant to upload a photo of himself to Cas. With a sigh, Dean pulled a decent picture of Benny from his phone, saved it to his computer and then attached it to the submission and sat there staring at it.

It would seem that Dean had decided to make a submission to the ask box. And, deep down, he knew it was probably best to just be honest about who he was and let the chips fall where they may. But still, looking at the falsehood he’d just typed up, Dean was undecided about how to proceed.

 

**What should Dean do?**

Contact Dr. Cum Control secretly, using Benny’s name as an alias (go to chapter 7)

Contact Dr. Cum Control honestly, as himself (go to chapter 8)


	7. Seven

The thought was tantalizing… be the subject of a video with The Doctor. Dean, having watched and rewatched most of Cas’s videos multiple times, was attuned to every nuance of the talented hands on screen. Now, when a new video was posted, Dean could often predict how long those curled fingers would hover before sliding down over a shaft, how many strokes the dominant right hand would make before pulling back and allowing the left to sneak in and tickle balls, and how much longer the doctor would continue ministrations before sitting back for a break.

And, yes, Dr. Cum Control took breaks. It was something Dean hadn’t noticed early on. The resting period, likely to the benefit of both the doctor and his subject, was disguised. To both the sub and the audience, it would appear that the doctor was taking a moment to clean his hands, refill a bottle, change out toys, adjust the cuffs, or some lengthy combination of similar activities. But, no. He was giving the bound man a few moments to rest. This minute or two or three without stimulation gave a taut body the precious moments it needed to relax… abs to stop quivering, limbs to stop straining, and jaw to stop clenching.

Even as a viewer, Dean would find himself relaxing during the interim and then coming back stronger afterwards. The doctor was smooth. The doctor was incredible. And, more than anything, Dean wanted to be at the mercy of this man, if even just once in his life. Imagining himself bound and expertly attended to was quickly becoming an unhealthy fixation.

Vivid images seemed to pop into Dean’s head sporadically at odd times, often during his work day. It didn’t seem to matter if he was at the shop, the restaurant, or the damned grocery store. A scintillating mental picture of himself and The Doctor would, could, and often did, manifest itself at a time when Dean wasn’t prepared, and he’d be swept up in a visceral bodily reaction that made him physically uncomfortable. Cramming down these hopeful visions wasn’t easy. More often than not, he was bound in these unsolicited daydreams, bound and naked and vulnerable. A spark of electricity would shoot through his body as the lurid thought crossed his mind, leaving tingles in its wake which dissipated as he managed to push the fantasy down and lock it away. A feverish feeling would sometimes linger afterwards, leaving him flushed and flustered for several minutes.

And that’s what was happening now. It was just a regular Tuesday. The shop was busy and the clock was inching close to the lunch hour. There was a customer standing at the counter and Dean was waiting for his invoice to print. Then, out of nowhere, he was blindsided by an all consuming and salacious mental picture of Dr. Cum Control. Though his fantasy revealed him to be on a bed, bound with his hands behind his back, Dean’s attention was not riveted on the intimidating form of a man towering over him, but rather on his hands which were poised and ready, but yet still clearly undecided on where they would touch Dean when they finally reached out to him.

Working to return his attention to his work where it belonged, Dean was startled when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

“Take it easy, brotha,” chuckled Benny, coming to lean on the counter next to Dean. “I just wanted to see if ya got plans for lunch. I’m headin’ over to the diner. Thought I’d see if you wanna come too.”

Dean, ripping his page off the printer and turning back to his customer, contemplated the merits of the bologna sandwich in his cooler, giving the matter less than a moment’s thought. Before his customer had even signed the invoice, he’d given Benny an affirmative nod and asked how long before they’d be leaving.

“I’m just gonna finish up the alignment on that Subaru and then I’ll be ready to go. Ash is comin’ too.”

Giving his friend a nod, Dean returned his attention to his work. When finished at the counter, he had just enough time to finish putting away the cases of oil and coolant that had been delivered before punching out. Then, heading out onto the shop floor, Dean located the lift that Benny was working under. Leaning in to watch the man work, Dean struck up a conversation.

“Hey Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“Ya think I’ll ever get trained to work in the shop?”

“Does Bobby know you’re interested in doin’ that?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged.

“Well brotha, you’ve been off in la-la land damn near every time I’ve seen ya the past few weeks. I guess that makes sense if you’re gettin’ bored at the counter.” Then, looking over his shoulder to meet eyes with Dean, the big ox of a man winked and teasingly said, “All this time, I just thought you were in love.”

Dean burst out laughing at the absurdity of the insinuation, hoping to cover up how close to the mark his friend actually was. “Not really my style,” he retorted as Benny turned back to his work.

“The fuck it ain’t,” barked Benny. “I’ve got your number, Winchester. You’re easier to read than a teenage girl.”

“So _you_ say,” he growled, “I’ve got a trail of chicks up route 66 that would beg to differ.”

“Chicks, Dean? C’mon, man, we’ve been friends for a while now. When ya gonna loosen up, huh?”

“How d’ya mean?”

“Like I said, Dean, I’ve got yer number. Ya don’t gotta play straight for me. I seen the way you were around that Jim guy from the restaurant. I never figured out if you actually hit that shit or not, but I know you wanted to.”

Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, Dean guffawed and thumped the toe of his boot against the huge rolling toolbox near edge of Benny’s work area. “I, uh, didn’t know. I mean, I didn’t know if you’d wanna still hang… if you knew. Some guys don’t. My old man didn’t.”

“Then that’s his problem,” spat Benny, “not yours.”

Dean nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor as he schooled his expression. The weight of the emotions settling over him now could have easily forced tears from the corners of his eyes and that was not something he’d allow his friend to see.

When he was finally able to raise his bowed head, Dean saw that Benny had gone back to working his way through the various suspension angles of toe, thrust, camber, and caster, pausing to make adjustments as needed. He worked steadily, without looking at Dean. God bless this man for giving Dean the moment he needed to compose himself.

Incrementally, Dean was able to relax while watching Benny work. Not long after, Ash ambled up. Wiping sweat from his face with a dirty shop rag, he asked, “What time is it?”

“Time to eat,” tossed back Benny without missing a beat.

“Well then, don’t be a hero,” laughed Ash. Gesturing towards the car Benny was working on, he added, ”That foreign POS can wait til after lunch.”

“Hell yeah,” muttered Benny, dropping his tools and rag into the tool box. “Let’s git goin’ before they run outta pecan.”

The men walked across the parking lot together and settled into a table at the Fiesta. Elizabeth was on duty, but the place was abnormally busy and she was working her ass off. She had no time to shoot the shit with them, but that didn’t stop her from playfully flicking Benny’s ear each time she zipped past them.

Over burgers, fries, and pie for dessert, Dean decided to drop his bi-sexuality bomb on Ash too. Now that the cat was out of the bag it only seemed fair to acknowledge it openly and not ask Benny to continue keeping secrets for him. To his surprise, the man’s response was, “No judgment here, man, I’ve never been too picky about the equipment.”

Benny busted out laughing. “Is that your way of sayin’ that a hot dog’s just as tasty as a taco?”

Hearing that, Dean just couldn’t hold back. He burst out laughing and so did both of his friends. Their howls of laughter momentarily drowned out the din of the diner around them and attracted the attention of their favorite waitress. When she came walking over she looked between the three of them and said, “What’s all this then?”

“This,” laughed Ash, “is a coming out party. Wanna join?”

“Well, I kissed a girl once,” she admitted, “but I didn’t like it. Who came out?”

“Everybody but me,” laughed Benny.

The look on Lizzy’s face was comical as she glanced back and forth between Dean and Ash. “You two?” she asked. “You two are together?”

“No,” laughed Ash, “We’re both, just, open to a wider range of experiences than Benny.”

“That’s it,” Benny joked, “I’m gonna have to try the dick just to fit in with my friends.”

Dean laughed more over that lunch break than he had all week. Getting back to work was easy with his mood lightened and Dean found himself feeling quite buoyant all afternoon and on into the evening. He’d never really said anything about his sexuality to his restaurant friends, but then again, he’d not really gone to great pains to hide it either. These friends, for some reason, just seemed more open and accepting. Or perhaps that was just Dean stereotyping… assuming that the garage’s testosterone rich environment, would somehow be as homophobic as that of his upbringing.

But, regardless, he was comfortable now. His friends had shown him that he could be. So, as he drank away his post-shift hours, Dean’s mind lingered primarily on Benny’s keen insight about him. Without a word from Dean, Ben had known exactly what had been keeping Dean preoccupied and daydreaming. Maybe the man was right and Dean was easier to read than he’d ever thought. If that was the case, it would explain a lot about his relationship with his father. It was seeming more and more likely that his old man had been aware of his son’s eye as it roved over attractive men, despite the efforts Dean may have put into hiding his preferences.

With that thought in mind, Dean stumbled outside to cool off and smoke a cigarette - and drunk dial his baby brother at Stanford.

When the call connected, Sam said, “Dean? It’s almost 2 am. Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he responded, “S’all good. All good Sammy. I just wanted to call and see how my baby brother was doin’. So - how you doin’ Sam?”

“I’m good, Dean, really good. My roommate and I are getting along well, I like all but one of my professors, dad’s not here to make me get a haircut every month and, guess what, I met an amazing girl.”

“No kidding. What’s she like?”

“She’s beautiful, Dean. She’s way too pretty for me, but she doesn’t seem to know it. She’s super nice and funny too and…”

“Yeah?”

“She’s an amazing kisser,” replied Sam sheepishly. Dean could practically picture the love-sick-puppy look on his brother’s face, warm eyes and blushing cheeks, his hair flopping in his face because he was finally out from under their drill-sergeant of a father who had always insisted it be kept short.

“Well, don’t fuck it up,” he teased. Taking a deep breath, Dean sighed on the exhale and said, “I just knew you’d be happy there.”

“I am, Dean. I really am.”

Resuming his role as the older brother, Dean let his voice grow teasing again. “Now you can be among your own kind - ya know?”

Laughing heartily, his brother bantered back at him, “What’s my kind?”

“Oh, you know,” Dean slurred, “the hippie-granola type who eat sprouts on their sandwiches and fish on their tacos. Dudes that wanna get up at the ass crack o’ dawn to go running and shit… healthy fuckers.”

Cut between bursts of Sam’s laughter, Dean continued to ramble intermittently, “... buncha sandal wearin’, tofu eatin’, long-haired nature lovers who sit around and read poetry to girls on the campus lawn. Am I right?”

“Dean are you drunk?”

“Is a frog’s ass water tight?”

“Well then, it’s a good time to ask how you’re doing and get an honest answer.” The line went silent for a beat before Sam continued. “Dean? How are you?”

“M’good Sammy,” he replied honestly. “I’m real, real good. I’m in Illinois. No idea why, but I’ve kinda settled down here. Got a damn job ‘n everything.”

“Where are you working?”

“Singer’s Automotive,” he answered. “And a couple nights a week at a restaurant in town. Get to rotate in as bar tender once in awhile and the tips are awesome. And, well, yeah. I might’ve met someone too.”

Sam was obviously thrilled. “Dean! That’s great! I’m so happy for you!” another short silence was followed by a thoughtful question. “So, she must be pretty special to slow the great Dean Winchester down. What’s she like?”

Here it was. The moment of truth. Taking another deep breath, leaning back on the cool brick exterior of the bar, Dean said, “Sammy, she’s a he.”

It was hard, so very hard, to be patient and wait for his brother to process what he’d been told and respond. But, he bit his tongue and did it. Dean didn’t speak again until Sam did.

“Do you mean that you’re dating a guy?”

“Well, yes and no,” he chuckled. “Yes, he’s a guy. No, we’re not dating. He literally doesn’t even know I’m alive. But, that doesn’t seem to matter. I can’t fuckin’ get interested in anyone else. At all.”

“Oh dude, you are so far gone!”

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Dean, this is great. I mean, it’d be better if he felt the same for you, but either way, I’m just proud of you for finally letting yourself pick one instead of trying to prove how many different flavors you can try.”

“Does it bother you that I’m interested in a guy?”

“Fuck no. Honestly Dean, do you think I’ve never noticed that you look sometimes? You think I even care? I’m not Dad, okay? I care that you’re happy. That’s it.”

“Thanks, Sammy.”

“I love you, Dean.”

“Aaannndd that’s my limit,” he laughed nervously. “I’ve officially crossed the line into chick flick territory and I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Call again soon.”

“G’nite Sam.”

“Nite Dean.”

The next morning at work, Dean was bent down under his counter doing inventory when Benny came up from behind to startle him again. “Dammit!” he cursed as he banged his head.

“Ya make it too easy brotha.”

Through laughter, Dean looked up at his friend and thought it looked like he had something on his mind. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Oh, nothin’ much,” he replied, leaning up against the counter. “I was just wonderin’ if you’re ever gonna tell me who it is you’re moonin’ over.”

“I ain’t moonin.”

“What are ya then?”

Opting for honesty, Dean sat back on his haunches and admitted defeat. “Dunno. Strung out I guess.”

“Is it that guy, Jim, from your other job?”

“No, it ain’t him. You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya.”

“C’mon. Out with it,” insisted Benny.

Seeing that his friend wasn’t kidding, Dean reluctantly answered. “Dude’s name is Cas. He’s actually Jimmy’s twin brother.”

“Well shit,” chuckled Benny, “no wonder you’ve been five worlds away.”

“I s’pose I’m pretty far gone if other people are noticing it.”

Benny gave him an understanding smile and said, “I guess ya could say that I know the signs. Been strung out a time or two myself. Ya know how I knew I was gonna make a go of it with Andrea?”

“How?”

“I kept pickin’ up the wrong damn wrench. Over and over. Musta done it twenty times in a damn day. That, more than anything else, made me see that I wasn’t right. Wasn’t gonna be right either. Not til I admitted I was a gonner and made it official. So, that night, I told her I was fallin’. Since that night, I’ve been exclusive. Man, I’m not even lookin’ at other tail. She’s it for me. ‘Til she shakes me off her leg, I’m hers man.”

“That’s awesome Ben. I’m happy for ya.”

“Thanks man. I tell ya what… I’d let that one make an honest man outta me.”

“I guess that’s sayin’ something, huh?”

“Sho is. So, what is it that’s got you so spun for the twin? I mean, Jim seemed like he’d be on board. But his twin doesn’t give ya the time of day?”

“Honestly, I hardly know him at all. I’ve seen him in real life once. But there’s just somethin’ about him.”

“Like what?”

“C’mon Benny… just cause I’m into dick doesn’t mean I need to sit here and chit chat about my crush like I’m a schoolgirl.”

“Take it easy,” chuckled Benny, pushing his palms out to indicate Dean should slow down. “I never said anything ‘bout schoolgirls or crushes. Hell, I toldja more about Andrea than you’ve told me about Cas and I sure as shit ain’t no school girl.”

Trying to dial back his defensiveness, Dean shrugged repentantly as he admitted, “Sorry. I guess I’m not used to my gay thing bein’ cool with anybody.”

“Clearly you’ve been spendin’ too much time with the wrong people.”

Nodding agreement, Dean asked, “How much do you know about BDSM?”

“Kinky shit, right? Whips n chains? Leather?”

Chuckling, Dean replied, “Yeah, I guess. I’ve been lookin’ into it lately.”

“By lookin’ into it, you mean watching porn?”

“Yeah, that too I s’pose. But I’ve actually been doin’ some reading too. There’s a lot more to it than I thought.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’m no expert. But from what I gather so far, it’s mostly about power. Like, one person giving over power to another.”

“I’ve always liked the girls who wear the thigh high boots and carry a whip or whatever… dominatrix, right?”

“Yeah. The Dom, that’s the person who calls the shots. The other person is the Sub.”

“And which are you Dean?”

“What makes you think I’m either?”

“That’s where this is headed right? This guy, Cas, he’s into it and that makes you wanna try it. Am I right?”

“Yeah,” he admitted reluctantly. He’s into edging. You know what that is?”

“I can guess what it’s about, yeah.”

“I’ve been watchin’ a lot of videos and I guess it’s been gettin’ under my skin. I gotta admit, I’m pretty fuckin’ curious.”

“Does Cas know you’re curious about it?”

“No. Not at all. But there’s this dude online who does it. Ties people up and drags the shit out for hours. The guys in the video cum, like, again and again and it’s fuckin’ intense. He’s got an ask box on his site and I was thinkin’ bout puttin’ my name in.”

As he watched Benny process what he’d just admitted to, Dean felt guilty. He knew he should be honest with his friend and tell him that the ask box belonged to Cas. But, unlike his bi-sexuality, his unrequited love, or even his favorite pie flavor, this secret wasn’t his to tell. So, to keep his oath of secrecy to Jimmy, Dean didn’t divulge the true identity of the edging porn star he’d been fantasizing about.

“If you did that, does that mean there would be a video online of you all trussed up and naked in a dungeon? Dude, that’s not cool. What if you have kids someday? They’ll see that shit.”

“He never shows faces in the videos. Not his or the Sub. I think it’s safe.”

“I don’t like it Dean, you’re trusting this guy not to use your face. He obviously keeps possession of the tapes and he uses the footage however he wants. You should think that through, Dean. Once you do somethin’ like that, ya can’t ever take it back.”

“Good point,” Dean admitted.

“Tell ya what Dean, if you’re this damn curious, why not go to a club?”

“A club?”

“Yeah, that’s where the action is right? BDSM clubs… you tellin’ me you didn’t come across anything like that when you were doin’ google searches for those videos you like so much?”

“I guess I saw some stuff like that in porn videos, I just thought it was fake.”

“Naw, man,” chuckled Benny, “I’m pretty sure there are clubs where people with whips meet people who like to be whipped. Seems a pretty safe bet that you’d find somethin’ like that in Chicago. Hell, there’s probably more than one or two in a city that size.”

Dean was stunned. Not only was he floored that Benny was so openly discussing something so taboo, but that he didn’t seem put off by it at all. There was zero judgment on the man’s face as he stepped away.

“Just somethin’ to think about,” said Benny innocently.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll think about it.”

Think about it he did. He watched videos and he thought about it. He got off and he thought about it. He researched BDSM some more, and he thought about it. Then, at three in the morning, for a reason that Dean himself hardly understands, he opened up the ask box on Cas’ sight and typed out a request. Having done this before, he had a much better idea of what he wanted to say. When he’d finished, he read it over and nodded to himself. The introduction was largely just him gushing as if Cas were a movie star and he were a fan. Then, in the body of the letter, he’d said his name was Benny and that he wanted to be in a video. As he read it over, he chuckled at the absurdity of what he’d done. It was the plot of a rom com unfolding. If this were a movie he’d hit submit and hilarity would ensue. In the end, he’d wind-up almost losing the object of his desire. But then, at the very last moment, things would come together and the audience would sigh deeply as they watched the characters share a nauseatingly sweet kiss.

Wait.

What the fuck?

Did he just…

Yep.

Sure as shit.

Fuck. Shit. He’d just hit the submit button. His bleary-eyed and strung-out ass had just hit submit and now he’d have to die. That was the only reasonable action left to take. As the reality set in, Dean tried to find a way to un-submit. Withdraw. Delete. But, eventually he had to admit defeat. Turning off the computer and heading for bed, he tried to tell himself that it didn’t really matter because there was no way he’d be getting a response anyway. Anyone reading that unabashed pile of ridiculous flattery would steer clear of its author for fear of letting a stalker into their life.

To his surprise, Dean found himself actually laughing to himself as he went to sleep. It was kind of funny in a way, so long as no one ever found out that he’d done it.

Dean slept well for a few short hours and then hoisted his ass out of bed for work.

“You look like shit,” muttered Bobby when Dean shuffled in that day.

“I ain’t had coffee yet,” he growled.

The morning passed slowly. Ash sat with him at lunch, the contents of their coolers spread out on the counter as they both straddled stools and stared at the computer monitor. The lobby had been empty of customers, so the two had done an incognito internet search and settled in to watch Japanese anime porn while they ate.

The afternoon passed slower than the morning had. But, things picked up when he got to the restaurant. The adrenaline of the dinner rush got his heart pumping and Dean soon forgot that he’d only had two or three hours of sleep.

Jimmy gave him shit all night for being slow and took to putting ice down his back to “keep his ass moving.” It was fun, as shifts at Bernardi’s usually were. Then, after, they all went out. As had become his habit lately, Dean departed after a few rounds.

“Wait up, Winchester,” hollered Jimmy, following him out the door.

Turning back as he turned down the sidewalk toward his car, he saw Jim jog a few steps to catch up.

“Hey,” he said when he caught up with Dean. “Got a sec?”

“Sure.”

“Well, this might sound kind of strange,” he said, falling into step with Dean as if he meant to walk him to his car, “but you’ve been different since… well… since _that_ night.”

Dean was surprised by the comment and he paused for a moment to think on the words.

“Dean, you used to hang out with us all night. You’d stay til you could talk some sweet thing out to your car or back to your place. But now you just have a few and go home, night after night. You look at me too… sometimes… as if maybe you’re thinking about me in that way. So, I gotta ask. Are you hung up on me?”

Coming to an abrupt stop next to his baby, Dean looked Jimmy in the eye. “W-What?”

“I mean, if you are, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not like I’ve never been there. I’ve had it. I’ve had it bad.”

“Had it?”

“Yeah. I know how it feels to want someone and feel like I can’t have them. And, I like you Dean, I really do. Damn. I shouldn’t have done so many shots. This isn’t coming out right.”

“Start over,” suggested Dean sternly, hoping his tone implied that he understood completely and that Jimmy had this all wrong.

“I’m trying to say that I like you, Dean. A lot. So, if you want me, if that’s what this is, I just wanted to say that we can try it. Ya know? We can go out.”

“Relax Jim,” chuckled Dean, patting his friend on the shoulder, “I’m not pining over _you_ , okay?”

Jimmy looked relieved for a moment and then perplexed again.

“What now?” Dean asked with a grin.

“You’re not pining over me, but you’re pining.”

“Um, I was using that word sarcastically.”

“Well, who is it?” he demanded. “Who’s got you going home alone every night like there’s no use even looking at other people?”

“What’s it to ya?” Dean tossed back.

Jimmy looked down at his feet, wounded. Dean immediately felt bad. He might not be as close with Jimmy as he was with Benny these days, but this guy was still one of his best friends. “Hey,” said Dean, “I didn’t mean to get pissy. You’re right, okay? It sucks to be me right now ‘cause I want somebody I can’t have. But I’ll get over it.”

“It’s not me?”

Dean had to look away. It wasn’t easy having a man who looked exactly like Cas stare into his eyes and offer himself. But, the men were different and it wouldn’t be the same, so Dean shook his head no as he pulled keys from his pocket and prepared to leave. Jimmy was gorgeous. And clearly he was willing. But he was not Cas.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna come over and watch the game on Sunday?”

Dean smiled widely at the invitation because he saw it for what it was - an attempt to return to normal after their talk. “You bet,” he said with a decisive nod, “I’ll bring queso.”

“And beer,” added Jimmy, turning away from the Impala and heading back into the bar.

Smiling again as he drove off, Dean turned on the radio and sang along to it all the way back to his place. He was feeling pretty good when he walked into the bedroom and immediately began peeling off his clothes. Already stiffening as he crossed the room to his computer, Dean sat down naked to see if Dr. Cum Control had uploaded any new videos. That’s when the world came crashing down. As soon as he logged into the website, Dean saw a flashing notification. Dr. Cum Control had responded to his ask.

With both fear and excitement boiling over inside him, Dean opened the response and read it over. Twice. Then a third time. He was stunned. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself as he realized that he’d better have a talk with Benny.

The next morning, Dean coasted into the parking lot of the Fiesta. Looking around the lot he was relieved to see Benny’s POS truck. He walked into the diner, greeting Elizabeth as he passed her, and then sat down at Benny’s booth.

“Mornin’,” he said.

“Hey there,” replied Benny, “were you up late last night shoppin’ for a BDSM club?”

“Nope. I was up late. Got an email from that guy I toldja about.”

“He’s talkin’ to ya now? What’d ya do, send him a dic pic?”

“Technically he’s talkin’ to you.”

“S’cuse me?”

“Um yeah, this is the part where I’m a fuck-tard.”

“Go on.”

“I used the ask box. But I was afraid he’d remember my name as a friend of Jimmy’s, so I used your name instead.”

“Yeah. That does make you a fuck-tard. What did you think was gonna happen Dean? The best you can hope for in this scenario is for _me_ to wind up in a video.”

“Look Ben, I know this is stupid. But there’s something I haven’t told you.”

“Why?”

“Cause it has to stay a secret. Can I trust you with another man’s secret?”

“Of course. Now, out with it.”

“It’s him, Ben. He’s the one. Cas. He’s Dr. Cum Control.”

“Oh Dean.”

The man’s face held so much pity that Dean wanted to puke. “Don’t look at me like that,” he barked. “Haven’t you ever done somethin’ stupid like that? Made an ass of yourself over a chick?”

“I s’pose,” he relented. Then, obviously working to stifle laughter, Benny added, “But this, Dean, this takes the cake. This is next-level stupid.”

“I know that. But, I’m hopin’ you’ll do it anyway.”

“Do what? You can’t possibly want me to meet this guy.”

“That’s exactly what I want you to do. Just bring me with you. Maybe he’ll notice me.”

“That’s pathetic Dean.”

Dean looked down at the formica table top in shame. Benny was right.

“When you blew into town, Dean Winchester, I thought to myself, that dude is James Dean.”

“And now?” he asked, looking up.

“Meg Ryan.”

“So you’ll come with me?”

“Just to watch the implosion,” he laughed.

Dean felt a smile tugging at his lips and he hated it. He wanted to be James Dean again. That thought alone sent him over the edge and into a fit of laughter.

“You gonna eat?” Benny asked him. He shook his head no.

“Well then,” said Benny, pulling a ten from his wallet and dropping it on the table next to his plate, “we should get to work.”

All day long, Dean teetered back and forth between thrilled and terrified. Well, one thing was for sure regarding Cas at this point. Dean was about to get noticed.

The email response from Dr. Cum Control had been specific. There was a questionnaire to return and a proposed meeting place and time had been attached. A plainly worded warning had been printed in bold that stated in no uncertain terms: being granted a meeting does not guarantee an appearance in a Dr. Cum Control video.

Dean sent back the questionnaire with very candid answers and then went out to buy himself a new pair of shades.

When he and Benny drove over to the coffee house on Main street for the meeting with Cas, he was wearing the new shades and two days of beard growth. The hope he clung to was that with his shades and whiskers, he might not be a familiar face. Additionally, he planned to give only his first name when they did introductions. His last name, he knew, was far more memorable than his first.

To his delight, that’s exactly how it seemed to go down. Walking into the coffee house, Dean had immediately spotted Cas in the back. But, he wasn’t supposed to know what the man looked like. So, rather than boldly walking up to introduce himself, Dean walked to the counter with Benny and ordered their drinks. The email instructions had said to wear a bright red bow tie so as to be identified. And Benny, adorned with the ridiculous thing, seemed irritated. As they stepped away from the counter with their paper cups, they were approached by Cas. He introduced himself as ‘the doctor’ and thanked Benny for coming as he shook his hand.

“And who is your friend?”

“A fan,” said Benny, giving Dean a hard look.

“It’s nice to meet you in person,” said Dean, extending his hand. Laying his palm on top of Dean’s, Cas grasped his hand and shook it while saying, “The pleasure is mine.” Then he directed them towards a table in the back.

Cas was all business as they began an interview that was far more formal than Dean had imagined. Benny was nodding along as Cas gave out information, but it was impossible to find a way to jump in and steer the conversation. So, Dean occupied himself with watching the shape of the man’s man mouth as he dictated to Benny how the video making process worked, what would be expected from him as a Sub, and what Cas would be obligated to as the Dom. As the formal interview drew to a close, the doctor offered Benny a chance to ask questions.

“Would you consider my friend Dean for a video?”

Dean felt his jaw drop and worked to close it back up. Cas chuckled. It was a deep, throaty sound that Dean loved. He’d been watching the man’s hands as sat here and noticed that at present, they were folded neatly in his lap.

“I’ll just be honest with you, Benny, you are a very nice looking man. As is your friend, what I can see of him anyway,” he added with a punctuated squint - as if to suggest by only with his eyes that Dean should remove his glasses. “But, you’re not the type of man I’m drawn to. Dean is closer, but also doesn’t fit the mold. Again, you’re both exquisite men, you’re just not my type. So, in all honesty, I think it’s unlikely that either of you would be selected to appear in a video.”

Dean felt the rejection like a punch to the gut. As he tried to keep his chin up and not crumble, he noticed Benny’s face. The dude was pissed.

“Not your type?” he repeated.

Dean watched Cas grow uncomfortable. “If you’ve seen my videos,” began Cas, “then you know that I have a type and I’ve been forthcoming about that on my website. I prefer young, trim, Asian men.”

Benny didn’t look any less upset now than he had a moment ago. Dean, knowing that Benny could be a bit of an angry bear sometimes, reached out and settled a hand on his thigh in the hopes that the gesture would calm him. “Okay,” Dean said, jumping in to try and defuse the situation, “We appreciate you being honest and upfront about what you’re looking for. Don’t we Benny?”

“Sure,” his friend said, his voice thick and his body posture tense.

“Thanks,” said Dean, getting up from his seat and hoping Benny would follow his lead. “It was nice to meet you.”

Dean stepped away from the table and to his relief, Benny got up as well. Cas got up from his chair too, not leaving as they were, but simply half-standing out of respect and then sitting back down as though it were the turn of the century and a lady had made her exit.

Dean couldn’t help feeling a little irritated with himself. He’d made an impression with Cas alright. He’d forever be remembered as the scruffy guy in shades that tagged along to the worst interview in Cum Control history. Not only that, but there was nothing satisfying about the exchange for him either. He’d known the guy had a preferred type, and he’d known he wasn’t it. But, somehow he’d deluded himself into thinking that if he just had some time with the guy, his charm and charisma would win Cas over. He’d been a fool.

Now that it was over and they were out of Cas’s presence, Dean could feel himself adjusting to the rejection he’d absorbed inside. He turned the key in the ignition and Baby rumbled to life beneath him.

“What a dick,” growled Benny from the passenger seat. “I hope you’re over him now that you’ve seen how he really is.”

“He’s not a dick,” answered Dean. “He was just being honest. Would it be better if he said he’d call and didn’t?  Or, if he acted like he was interested to our faces and then send us a rejection letter later?”

“There’s ‘bout fifty nicer ways he coulda said that,” retorted Benny. “He probably gets off on shootin’ guys down.”

“I knew I wasn’t his type. You either. I went for it anyway. It was stupid. I’m sorry I wasted your time, man. It was damn nice of ya to go along with this just so I could take a shot.”

“Please. All that shit about his ‘type’. It was bullshit. He wanted you. He just gets off on bein’ a dick.”

“Ben, I appreciate you tryin’ to make me feel better, but he didn’t want me.”

“The fuck he didn’t.”

“You don’t do dick, Benny, how would you know?”

“It ain’t rocket science,” laughed his friend, rolling down his window to rest his arm there. “The dude licked his lips every damn time you did, Dean.”

“Wait - he did?”

“He did. And, he looked at you more often than me.”

“Well, I am the pretty one,” Dean teased, trying to show Benny he was okay. Turning back out onto Main Street, Dean glanced over at Benny who still looked perturbed, and said, “Listen Benny, you goin’ along with this whole crazy thing, it was above and beyond.”

“Sure was,” his friend laughed.

“Well, I owe ya one.”

“You owe me shit,” replied Benny. “Everybody gets a pass once. I know I’ve made a fool of myself at least once over a piece of tail. Today’s just your turn.”

“Thanks man.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said with a warm smile.

Dean smiled back.

“Really,” added Benny, breaking into laughter, “Don’t EVER mention this.”

  
  
  


**Go to chapter 9.**

 


	8. Eight

The thought was tantalizing… be the subject of a video with The Doctor. Dean, having watched and rewatched most of Cas’s videos multiple times, was attuned to every nuance of the talented hands on screen. Now, when a new video was posted, Dean could often predict how long those curled fingers would hover before sliding down over a shaft, how many strokes the dominant right hand would make before pulling back and allowing the left to sneak in and tickle balls, and how much longer the doctor would continue ministrations before sitting back for a break.

And, yes, Dr. Cum Control took breaks. It was something Dean hadn’t noticed early on. The resting period, likely to the benefit of both the doctor and his subject, was disguised. To both the sub and the audience, it would appear that the doctor was taking a moment to clean his hands, refill a bottle, change out toys, adjust the cuffs, or some lengthy combination of similar activities. But, no. He was giving the bound man a few moments to rest. This minute or two or three without stimulation gave a taut body the precious moments it needed to relax… abs to stop quivering, limbs to stop straining, and jaw to stop clenching.

Even as a viewer, Dean would find himself relaxing during the interim and then coming back stronger afterwards. The doctor was smooth. The doctor was incredible. And, more than anything, Dean wanted to be at the mercy of this man, if even just once in his life. Imagining himself bound and expertly attended to was quickly becoming an unhealthy fixation.

Vivid images seemed to pop into Dean’s head sporadically at odd times, often during his work day. It didn’t seem to matter if he was at the shop, the restaurant, or the damned grocery store. A scintillating mental picture of himself and The Doctor would, could, and often did, manifest itself at a time when Dean wasn’t prepared, and he’d be swept up in a visceral bodily reaction that made him physically uncomfortable. Cramming down these hopeful visions wasn’t easy. More often than not, he was bound in these unsolicited daydreams, bound and naked and vulnerable. A spark of electricity would shoot through his body as the lurid thought crossed his mind, leaving tingles in its wake which dissipated as he managed to push the fantasy down and lock it away. A feverish feeling would sometimes linger afterwards, leaving him flushed and flustered for several minutes.

And that’s what was happening now. It was just a regular Tuesday. The shop was busy and the clock was inching close to the lunch hour. There was a customer standing at the counter and Dean was waiting for his invoice to print. Then, out of nowhere, he was blindsided by an all consuming and salacious mental picture of Dr. Cum Control. Though his fantasy revealed him to be on a bed, bound with his hands behind his back, Dean’s attention was not riveted on the intimidating form of a man towering over him, but rather on his hands which were poised and ready, but yet still clearly undecided on where they would touch Dean when they finally reached out to him.

Working to return his attention to his work where it belonged, Dean was startled when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

“Take it easy, brotha,” chuckled Benny, coming to lean on the counter next to Dean. “I just wanted to see if ya got plans for lunch. I’m headin’ over to the diner. Thought I’d see if you wanna come too.”

Dean, ripping his page off the printer and turning back to his customer, contemplated the merits of the bologna sandwich in his cooler, giving the matter less than a moment’s thought. Before his customer had even signed the invoice, he’d given Benny an affirmative nod and asked how long before they’d be leaving.

“I’m just gonna finish up the alignment on that Subaru and then I’ll be ready to go. Ash is comin’ too.”

Giving his friend a nod, Dean returned his attention to his work. When finished at the counter, he had just enough time to finish putting away the cases of oil and coolant that had been delivered before punching out. Then, heading out onto the shop floor, Dean located the lift that Benny was working under. Leaning in to watch the man work, Dean struck up a conversation.

“Hey Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“Ya think I’ll ever get trained to work in the shop?”

“Does Bobby know you’re interested in doin’ that?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged.

“Well brotha, you’ve been off in la-la land damn near every time I’ve seen ya the past few weeks. I guess that makes sense if you’re gettin’ bored at the counter.” Then, looking over his shoulder to meet eyes with Dean, the big ox of a man winked and teasingly said, “All this time, I just thought you were in love.”

Dean burst out laughing at the absurdity of the insinuation, hoping to cover up how close to the mark his friend actually was. “Not really my style,” he retorted as Benny turned back to his work.

“The fuck it ain’t,” barked Benny. “I’ve got your number, Winchester. You’re easier to read than a teenage girl.”

“So _you_ say,” he growled, “I’ve got a trail of chicks up route 66 that would beg to differ.”

“Chicks, Dean? C’mon, man, we’ve been friends for a while now. When ya gonna loosen up, huh?”

“How d’ya mean?”

“Like I said, Dean, I’ve got yer number. Ya don’t gotta play straight for me. I seen the way you were around that Jim guy from the restaurant. I never figured out if you actually hit that shit or not, but I know you wanted to.”

Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, Dean guffawed and thumped the toe of his boot against the huge rolling toolbox near edge of Benny’s work area. “I, uh, didn’t know. I mean, I didn’t know if you’d wanna still hang… if you knew. Some guys don’t. My old man didn’t.”

“Then that’s his problem,” spat Benny, “not yours.”

Dean nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor as he schooled his expression. The weight of the emotions settling over him now could have easily forced tears from the corners of his eyes and that was not something he’d allow his friend to see.

When he was finally able to raise his bowed head, Dean saw that Benny had gone back to working his way through the various suspension angles of toe, thrust, camber, and caster, pausing to make adjustments as needed. He worked steadily, without looking at Dean. God bless this man for giving Dean the moment he needed to compose himself.

Incrementally, Dean was able to relax while watching Benny work. Not long after, Ash ambled up. Wiping sweat from his face with a dirty shop rag, he asked, “What time is it?”

“Time to eat,” tossed back Benny without missing a beat.

“Well then, don’t be a hero,” laughed Ash. Gesturing towards the car Benny was working on, he added, ”That foreign POS can wait til after lunch.”

“Hell yeah,” muttered Benny, dropping his tools and rag into the tool box. “Let’s git goin’ before they run outta pecan.”

The men walked across the parking lot together and settled into a table at the Fiesta. Elizabeth was on duty, but the place was abnormally busy and she was working her ass off. She had no time to shoot the shit with them, but that didn’t stop her from playfully flicking Benny’s ear each time she zipped past them.

Over burgers, fries, and pie for dessert, Dean decided to drop his bi-sexuality bomb on Ash too. Now that the cat was out of the bag it only seemed fair to acknowledge it openly and not ask Benny to continue keeping secrets for him. To his surprise, the man’s response was, “No judgment here, man, I’ve never been too picky about the equipment.”

Benny busted out laughing. “Is that your way of sayin’ that a hot dog’s just as tasty as a taco?”

Hearing that, Dean just couldn’t hold back. He burst out laughing and so did both of his friends. Their howls of laughter momentarily drowned out the din of the diner around them and attracted the attention of their favorite waitress. When she came walking over she looked between the three of them and said, “What’s all this then?”

“This,” laughed Ash, “is a coming out party. Wanna join?”

“Well, I kissed a girl once,” she admitted, “but I didn’t like it. Who came out?”

“Everybody but me,” laughed Benny.

The look on Lizzy’s face was comical as she glanced back and forth between Dean and Ash. “You two?” she asked. “You two are together?”

“No,” laughed Ash, “We’re both, just, open to a wider range of experiences than Benny.”

“That’s it,” Benny joked, “I’m gonna have to try the dick just to fit in with my friends.”

Dean laughed more over that lunch break than he had all week. Getting back to work was easy with his mood lightened and Dean found himself feeling quite buoyant all afternoon and on into the evening. He’d never really said anything about his sexuality to his restaurant friends, but then again, he’d not really gone to great pains to hide it either. These friends, for some reason, just seemed more open and accepting. Or perhaps that was just Dean stereotyping… assuming that the garage’s testosterone rich environment, would somehow be as homophobic as that of his upbringing.

But, regardless, he was comfortable now. His friends had shown him that he could be. So, as he drank away his post-shift hours, Dean’s mind lingered primarily on Benny’s keen insight about him. Without a word from Dean, Ben had known exactly what had been keeping Dean preoccupied and daydreaming. Maybe the man was right and Dean was easier to read than he’d ever thought. If that was the case, it would explain a lot about his relationship with his father. It was seeming more and more likely that his old man had been aware of his son’s eye as it roved over attractive men, despite the efforts Dean may have put into hiding his preferences.

With that thought in mind, Dean stumbled outside to cool off and smoke a cigarette - and drunk dial his baby brother at Stanford.

When the call connected, Sam said, “Dean? It’s almost 2 am. Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he responded, “S’all good. All good Sammy. I just wanted to call and see how my baby brother was doin’. So - how you doin’ Sam?”

“I’m good, Dean, really good. My roommate and I are getting along well, I like all but one of my professors, dad’s not here to make me get a haircut every month and, guess what, I met an amazing girl.”

“No kidding. What’s she like?”

“She’s beautiful, Dean. She’s way too pretty for me, but she doesn’t seem to know it. She’s super nice and funny too and…”

“Yeah?”

“She’s an amazing kisser,” replied Sam sheepishly. Dean could practically picture the love-sick-puppy look on his brother’s face, warm eyes and blushing cheeks, his hair flopping in his face because he was finally out from under their drill-sergeant of a father who had always insisted it be kept short.

“Well, don’t fuck it up,” he teased. Taking a deep breath, Dean sighed on the exhale and said, “I just knew you’d be happy there.”

“I am, Dean. I really am.”

Resuming his role as the older brother, Dean let his voice grow teasing again. “Now you can be among your own kind - ya know?”

Laughing heartily, his brother bantered back at him, “What’s my kind?”

“Oh, you know,” Dean slurred, “the hippie-granola type who eat sprouts on their sandwiches and fish on their tacos. Dudes that wanna get up at the ass crack o’ dawn to go running and shit… healthy fuckers.”

Cut between bursts of Sam’s laughter, Dean continued to ramble intermittently, “... buncha sandal wearin’, tofu eatin’, long-haired nature lovers who sit around and read poetry to girls on the campus lawn. Am I right?”

“Dean are you drunk?”

“Is a frog’s ass water tight?”

“Well then, it’s a good time to ask how you’re doing and get an honest answer.” The line went silent for a beat before Sam continued. “Dean? How are you?”

“M’good Sammy,” he replied honestly. “I’m real, real good. I’m in Illinois. No idea why, but I’ve kinda settled down here. Got a damn job ‘n everything.”

“Where are you working?”

“Singer’s Automotive,” he answered. “And a couple nights a week at a restaurant in town. Get to rotate in as bar tender once in awhile and the tips are awesome. And, well, yeah. I might’ve met someone too.”

Sam was obviously thrilled. “Dean! That’s great! I’m so happy for you!” another short silence was followed by a thoughtful question. “So, she must be pretty special to slow the great Dean Winchester down. What’s she like?”

Here it was. The moment of truth. Taking another deep breath, leaning back on the cool brick exterior of the bar, Dean said, “Sammy, she’s a he.”

It was hard, so very hard, to be patient and wait for his brother to process what he’d been told and respond. But, he bit his tongue and did it. Dean didn’t speak again until Sam did.

“Do you mean that you’re dating a guy?”

“Well, yes and no,” he chuckled. “Yes, he’s a guy. No, we’re not dating. He literally doesn’t even know I’m alive. But, that doesn’t seem to matter. I can’t fuckin’ get interested in anyone else. At all.”

“Oh dude, you are so far gone!”

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Dean, this is great. I mean, it’d be better if he felt the same for you, but either way, I’m just proud of you for finally letting yourself pick one instead of trying to prove how many different flavors you can try.”

“Does it bother you that I’m interested in a guy?”

“Fuck no. Honestly Dean, do you think I’ve never noticed that you look sometimes? You think I even care? I’m not Dad, okay? I care that you’re happy. That’s it.”

“Thanks, Sammy.”

“I love you, Dean.”

“Aaannndd that’s my limit,” he laughed nervously. “I’ve officially crossed the line into chick flick territory and I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Call again soon.”

“G’nite Sam.”

“Nite Dean.”

The next morning at work, Dean was bent down under his counter doing inventory when Benny came up from behind to startle him again. “Dammit!” he cursed as he banged his head.

“Ya make it too easy brotha.”

Through laughter, Dean looked up at his friend and thought it looked like he had something on his mind. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Oh, nothin’ much,” he replied, leaning up against the counter. “I was just wonderin’ if you’re ever gonna tell me who it is you’re moonin’ over.”

“I ain’t moonin.”

“What are ya then?”

Opting for honesty, Dean sat back on his haunches and admitted defeat. “Dunno. Strung out I guess.”

“Is it that guy, Jim, from your other job?”

“No, it ain’t him. You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya.”

“C’mon. Out with it,” insisted Benny.

Seeing that his friend wasn’t kidding, Dean reluctantly answered. “Dude’s name is Cas. He’s actually Jimmy’s twin brother.”

“Well shit,” chuckled Benny, “no wonder you’ve been five worlds away.”

“I s’pose I’m pretty far gone if other people are noticing it.”

Benny gave him an understanding smile and said, “I guess ya could say that I know the signs. Been strung out a time or two myself. Ya know how I knew I was gonna make a go of it with Andrea?”

“How?”

“I kept pickin’ up the wrong damn wrench. Over and over. Musta done it twenty times in a damn day. That, more than anything else, made me see that I wasn’t right. Wasn’t gonna be right either. Not til I admitted I was a gonner and made it official. So, that night, I told her I was fallin’. Since that night, I’ve been exclusive. Man, I’m not even lookin’ at other tail. She’s it for me. ‘Til she shakes me off her leg, I’m hers man.”

“That’s awesome Ben. I’m happy for ya.”

“Thanks man. I tell ya what… I’d let that one make an honest man outta me.”

“I guess that’s sayin’ something, huh?”

“Sho is. So, what is it that’s got you so spun for the twin? I mean, Jim seemed like he’d be on board. But his twin doesn’t give ya the time of day?”

“Honestly, I hardly know him at all. I’ve seen him in real life once. But there’s just somethin’ about him.”

“Like what?”

“C’mon Benny… just cause I’m into dick doesn’t mean I need to sit here and chit chat about my crush like I’m a schoolgirl.”

“Take it easy,” chuckled Benny, pushing his palms out to indicate Dean should slow down. “I never said anything ‘bout schoolgirls or crushes. Hell, I toldja more about Andrea than you’ve told me about Cas and I sure as shit ain’t no school girl.”

Trying to dial back his defensiveness, Dean shrugged repentantly as he admitted, “Sorry. I guess I’m not used to my gay thing bein’ cool with anybody.”

“Clearly you’ve been spendin’ too much time with the wrong people.”

Nodding agreement, Dean asked, “How much do you know about BDSM?”

“Kinky shit, right? Whips ‘n chains? Leather?”

Chuckling, Dean replied, “Yeah, I guess. I’ve been lookin’ into it lately.”

“By lookin’ into it, you mean watching porn?”

“Yeah, that too I s’pose. But I’ve actually been doin’ some reading too. There’s a lot more to it than I thought.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’m no expert. But from what I gather so far, it’s mostly about power. Like, one person giving over power to another.”

“I’ve always liked the girls who wear the thigh high boots and carry a whip or whatever… dominatrix, right?”

“Yeah. The Dom, that’s the person who calls the shots. The other person is the Sub.”

“And which are you Dean?”

“What makes you think I’m either?”

“That’s where this is headed right? This guy, Cas, he’s into it and that makes you wanna try it. Am I right?”

“Yeah,” he admitted reluctantly. He’s into edging. You know what that is?”

“I can guess what it’s about, yeah.”

“I’ve been watchin’ a lot of videos and I guess it’s been gettin’ under my skin. I gotta admit, I’m pretty fuckin’ curious.”

“Does Cas know you’re curious about it?”

“No. Not at all. But there’s this dude online who does it. Ties people up and drags the shit out for hours. The guys in the video cum, like, again and again and it’s fuckin’ intense. He’s got an ask box on his site and I was thinkin’ bout puttin’ my name in.”

As he watched Benny process what he’d just admitted to, Dean felt guilty. He knew he should be honest with his friend and tell him that the ask box belonged to Cas. But, unlike his bi-sexuality, his unrequited love, or even his favorite pie flavor, this secret wasn’t his to tell. So, to keep his oath of secrecy to Jimmy, Dean didn’t divulge the true identity of the edging porn star he’d been fantasizing about.

“If you did that, does that mean there would be a video online of you all trussed up and naked in a dungeon? Dude, that’s not cool. What if you have kids someday? They’ll see that shit.”

“He never shows faces in the videos. Not his or the Sub. I think it’s safe.”

“I don’t like it Dean, you’re trusting this guy not to use your face. He obviously keeps possession of the tapes and he uses the footage however he wants. You should think that through, Dean. Once you do somethin’ like that, ya can’t ever take it back.”

“Good point,” Dean admitted.

“Tell ya what Dean, if you’re this damn curious, why not go to a club?”

“A club?”

“Yeah, that’s where the action is right? BDSM clubs… you tellin’ me you didn’t come across anything like that when you were doin’ google searches for those videos you like so much?”

“I guess I saw some stuff like that in porn videos, I just thought it was fake.”

“Naw, man,” chuckled Benny, “I’m pretty sure there are clubs where people with whips meet people who like to be whipped. Seems a pretty safe bet that you’d find somethin’ like that in Chicago. Hell, there’s probably more than one or two in a city that size.”

Dean was stunned. Not only was he floored that Benny was so openly discussing something so taboo, but that he didn’t seem put off by it at all. There was zero judgment on the man’s face as he stepped away.

“Just somethin’ to think about,” said Benny innocently.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll think about it.”

Think about it he did. He watched videos and he thought about it. He got off and he thought about it. He researched BDSM some more, and he thought about it. Then, at three in the morning, for a reason that Dean himself hardly understands, he opened up the ask box on Cas’ sight and typed out a request. Having done this before, he had a much better idea of what he wanted to say. When he’d finished he read it over, nodded with satisfaction, and hit enter.

Wait.

What the fuck?

Did he just…

Yep.

Sure as shit.

Fucking shit. His bleary-eyed and strung-out ass had just submitted an official ask and now he’d have to die. That was the only reasonable action left to take. As the reality set in, Dean tried to find a way to un-submit. Withdraw. Delete. But, eventually he had to admit defeat. Turning off the computer and heading for bed, he tried to tell himself that it didn’t really matter because there was no way he’d be getting a response anyway. Anyone reading that unabashed pile of ridiculous flattery would steer clear of its author for fear of letting a stalker into their life.

To his surprise, Dean found himself actually laughing at the absurdity of his life as he went to sleep. It was kind of funny in a way, so long as no one ever found out that he’d done it.

Dean slept well for a few short hours and then hoisted his ass out of bed for work.

“You look like shit,” muttered Bobby when Dean shuffled in that day.

“I ain’t had coffee yet,” he growled.

The morning passed slowly. Ash sat with him at lunch, the contents of their coolers spread out on the counter as they both straddled stools and stared at the computer monitor. The lobby had been empty of customers, so the two had done an incognito internet search and settled in to watch Japanese anime porn while they ate.

The afternoon passed slower than the morning had. But, things picked up when he got to the restaurant. The adrenaline of the dinner rush got his heart pumping and Dean soon forgot that he’d only had two or three hours of sleep.

Jimmy gave him shit all night for being slow and took to putting ice down his back to “keep his ass moving.” It was fun, as shifts at Bernardi’s usually were. Then, after, they all went out. As had become his habit lately, Dean departed after a few rounds.

“Wait up, Winchester,” hollered Jimmy, following him out the door.

Turning back as he turned down the sidewalk toward his car, he saw Jim jog a few steps to catch up.

“Hey,” he said when he caught up with Dean. “Got a sec?”

“Sure.”

“Well, this might sound kind of strange,” he said, falling into step with Dean as if he meant to walk him to his car, “but you’ve been different since… well… since _that_ night..”

Dean was surprised by the comment and he paused for a moment to think on the words.

“Dean, you used to hang out with us all night. You’d stay til you could talk some sweet thing out to your car or back to your place. But now you just have a few and go home, night after night. You look at me too… sometimes… as if maybe you’re thinking about me in that way. So, I gotta ask. Are you hung up on me?”

Coming to an abrupt stop next to his baby, Dean looked Jimmy in the eye. “W-What?”

“I mean, if you are, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not like I’ve never been there. I’ve had it. I’ve had it bad.”

“Had it?”

“Yeah. I know how it feels to want someone and feel like I can’t have them. And, I like you Dean, I really do. Damn. I shouldn’t have done so many shots. This isn’t coming out right.”

“Start over,” suggested Dean sternly, hoping his tone implied that he understood completely and that Jimmy had this all wrong.

“I’m trying to say that I like you, Dean. A lot. So, if you want me, if that’s what this is, I just wanted to say that we can try it. Ya know? We can go out.”

“Relax Jim,” chuckled Dean, patting his friend on the shoulder, “I’m not pining over _you_ , okay?”

Jimmy looked relieved for a moment and then perplexed again.

“What now?” Dean asked with a grin.

“You’re not pining over me, but you’re pining.”

“Um, I was using that word sarcastically.”

“Well, who is it?” he demanded. “Who’s got you going home alone every night like there’s no use even looking at other people?”

“What’s it to ya?” Dean tossed back.

Jimmy looked down at his feet, wounded. Dean immediately felt bad. He might not be as close with Jimmy as he was with Benny these days, but this guy was still one of his best friends. “Hey,” said Dean, “I didn’t mean to get pissy. You’re right, okay? It sucks to be me right now ‘cause I want somebody I can’t have. But I’ll get over it.”

“It’s not me?”

Dean had to look away. It wasn’t easy having a man who looked exactly like Cas stare into his eyes and offer himself. But, the men were different and it wouldn’t be the same, so Dean shook his head no as he pulled keys from his pocket and prepared to leave. Jimmy was gorgeous. And clearly he was willing. But he was not Cas.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna come over and watch the game on Sunday?”

Dean smiled widely at the invitation because he saw it for what it was - an attempt to return to normal after their talk. “You bet,” he said with a decisive nod, “I’ll bring queso.”

“And beer,” added Jimmy, turning away from the Impala and heading back into the bar.

Smiling again as he drove off, Dean turned on the radio and sang along to it all the way back to his place. He was feeling pretty good when he walked into the bedroom and immediately began peeling off his clothes. Already stiffening as he crossed the room to his computer, Dean sat down naked to see if Dr. Cum Control had uploaded any new videos. That’s when things got interesting.

As soon as he logged into the website, Dean saw a flashing notification. Dr. Cum Control had responded to his ask.

With both fear and excitement boiling over inside him, Dean opened the response and read it over. Twice. Then a third time. He was stunned. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself, “I got an interview.”

The next morning, Dean got up earlier than strictly necessary so he could grab breakfast at the Fiesta and hopefully get a few minutes with Benny before they had to punch in. When he pulled into the lot, he was glad to see the man’s POS truck sitting out front. Heading inside, he made his way to the booth where Benny was sitting and slid in.

“Mornin’,” he said.

“Hey there,” replied Benny, “were you up late last night shoppin’ for a BDSM club?”

“Nope. I was up late reading an email from Cas.I used the ask box.”

The man’s face held so much pity that Dean wanted to puke. “Don’t look at me like that,” he barked. “Haven’t you ever done somethin’ stupid like that? Made an ass of yourself over a chick?”

“I s’pose,” Benny relented. “But this is just some random dude on the internet man, a stranger.”

Dean looked down at the Formica table top in shame. “Benny, man, I haven’t told you everything.”

“So tell me everything.”

“This really isn’t for me to tell. Can I trust you with another man’s secret?”

“Of course.”

“It’s him, Ben, it’s Cas. He’s Dr. Cum Control.”

“Now this all makes more sense,” he said, shoveling the last of his breakfast into this mouth. “But, you’ve met him before,” Benny added as he chewed. “Why even bother with the ask box? Can’tcha just ring the doorbell and ask him out?”

“If he’s this secretive about his identity, then asking him as a friend of his brother? Not good. Anonymously online? Much better. Besides, he barely looked at me when we met. If I can get through the first meeting without him remembering me, then he’ll always just remember meeting me online.”

“Til he realizes that you work with his brother and then it’ll all come back to him. This can’t end well.”

“It could work.”

“This is like the plot of a chick flick,” chuckled Benny. “It’s gonna blow up in your face.”

“I’m thinkin’ if I wear a slick set of shades and don’t shave, I’ll probably look different enough that he doesn’t notice.”

With a long suffering sigh, Benny leaned over his empty plate and said, “When you blew into town, Dean Winchester, I thought to myself, that dude is James Dean.”

“And now?” he asked, grinning like a fool.

“Meg Ryan.”

Dean felt a smile tugging at his lips and he hated it. He wanted to be James Dean again. That thought alone sent him over the edge and into a fit of laughter.

“You gonna eat?” Benny asked him, laughing along. Dean shook his head no.

“Well then,” said Benny, pulling a ten from his wallet and dropping it on the table next to his plate, “we should get to work.”

All day long, Dean teetered back and forth between thrilled and terrified. Well, one thing was for sure whether his plan worked or not: Dean was about to get noticed.

The email response from Dr. Cum Control had been quite specific. There was a questionnaire to return and a proposed meeting time and place had been attached. A plainly worded warning had been printed in bold that stated in no uncertain terms: being granted a meeting does not guarantee an appearance in a Dr. Cum Control video.

Dean had sent back the questionnaire with very candid answers. And today, when he got off work, he went out to buy himself a new pair of shades.

At the end of the week when he drove over to his meeting with Cas, he was wearing the new shades and two days of beard growth. Additionally, he planned to give only his first name when they did introductions. His last name, he knew, was far more memorable than his first.

Walking into the designated coffee house at the agreed upon time, Dean had immediately spotted Cas in the back. But, he wasn’t supposed to know what the man looked like. So, rather than boldly walking up to introduce himself, Dean walked to the counter and ordered a drink. The email instructions had said to wear a bright red bow tie so as to be identified. Adorned with the ridiculous thing, Dean waited for his order and then stepped away from the counter with it. It was then that he was approached by Cas who introduced himself as ‘the doctor’ and thanked Dean for coming as he shook his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you in person, I’m a huge fan,” said Dean, extending his hand. Laying his palm on top of Dean’s, Cas grasped his hand and shook it while saying, “The pleasure is mine.” Then, he walked Dean to his table in the back.

Cas was all business as they began a surprisingly formal interview that left Dean feeling like he’d applied for a job. Still, he found himself nodding along as Cas gave out information. Dean struggled to pay attention, too heavily focused on the shape of the man’s mouth as he spoke and the way his hands moved. He was told how the video making process worked, what would be expected from him as a Sub, and what Cas would be obligated to as the Dom. As the formal interview drew to a close, the doctor offered him a chance to ask questions.

“Don’t you want to know anything about me? I mean, don’t you get to know the guys you make videos with?”

“What’s to know,” said Cas pointedly. “We’re not entering a relationship, we’re doing a scene. On video.”

Dean felt his jaw drop and worked to close it back up. Cas chuckled. It was a deep, throaty sound that Dean loved. He’d been watching the man’s hands as they sat here and noticed that as he’d delivered that last line, they’d moved to his lap for the first time and were folded there neatly.

“Look, Dean, I’ll just be honest with you. You are a very attractive man. “What I can see of you anyway,” he added with a punctuated squint - as if to suggest with only his eyes that Dean should remove his glasses. “But, you’re not the type of man I’m drawn to. So, in all honesty, I think it’s unlikely that you would be selected to appear in a video.”

Dean felt the rejection like a punch to the gut. As he tried to keep his chin up and not crumble, he noticed Cas growing uncomfortable. The hands that were previously resting locked in his lap were busy now, wringing and squeezing as went on to say, “You’ve seen my videos, and submitted an ask so logic dictates that you must’ve seen my disclaimer. I have a specific type that I use in my videos. They are young, trim, Asian men, almost exclusively.”

“Okay,” Dean said, “I guess it was the ‘almost’ that made me wonder if, well, if maybe I should ask. And, ya did do a video with that black guy. I guess I thought maybe there was a chance. But, I appreciate you being honest and upfront about what you’re looking for. I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time.” Dean pushed his chair back and began to get up, hoping he’d successfully hidden the hurt in his voice.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” said Cas, rising from his seat along with Dean and clasping his left hand over their joined ones as they shook hands again and said good-bye.

Walking to his car, Dean had to work to hold his chin up and keep his body language confident. On the inside, he felt very small. And very sad. He’d been so looking forward to this. And now, he wished he’d never even seen that ask box.

He stopped at the grocery on the way home and bought an apple pie from the bakery section and a carton of ice-cream from the freezer aisle before heading to the front of the store. As he walked past the liquor, he grabbed a bottle of mediocre whiskey and then headed to the check out.

At home he took a slice of pie and his bottle to the couch. That couch was his buddy for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. After going to the kitchen for his third slice of pie, Dean finally gave up on pretenses and carried the entire pie tin to the couch with him.

Forking up bite after bite, Dean ate and drank and watched shitty television until his stomach hurt. Cas had blown him off when they’d first met, and now he’d blown him off again. The sting of not being wanted had seemed to be a superficial wound when he’d absorbed it earlier today. But now, it seemed to have sunken in deeper. All the way to his bones.

Dean tried to tell himself that the guy was a dick. But he knew it wasn’t true. Cas simply didn’t want Dean. And worse yet, it didn’t seem to sour him on the doctor. Sadly, Dean still wanted him just the same.

  


**Go to chapter 9.**


	9. Nine

Dean, despite everything, was still utterly devoted to Cas. In fact, the man, in his dual incarnations, was all Dean could think about. Desire for him hammered through Dean’s body with every heartbeat, relentlessly. 

When he was home alone, if he wasn’t watching and getting off to Cas’s videos, Dean would sit for hours, staring at his computer, scouring the internet to learn more about his new pastime: BDSM. Lately, he’d been taking Benny’s advice and searching out a BDSM club that was local. 

That’s what he’d been doing all day today. It was a Sunday, so he hadn’t worked at the shop, and he also had the night off from the restaurant; a rarity. With an entire day to himself, Dean had been at the computer for way too long. His neck was cramped and his legs were stiff. This was the longest he’d spent online without watching a Cas video since, well, since he’d first heard the name Dr. Cum Control. But, as he sorted through links and read blogs, he was easily distracted by any new information about the lifestyle of bondage and discipline. As unfocused as he was, it took him most of the day to narrow down the nearby clubs to just two viable options. 

When he looked up and saw it had gotten dark outside, Dean took a quick break to wolf down some food and change into sleep pants before returning to his ‘research’. 

Having pissed away the entire day and half the night, waking up for work the next morning was awful. But, he was excited to talk to Benny about what he’d found. So, he pounded enough coffee to get him going and then headed over to the Fiesta in the hope of catching his friend for breakfast before work. 

In their usual booth, jittery with too much caffeine, Dean plowed through a huge breakfast platter as he hoped that Benny would show up. When he did, Dean motioned him over with a wave and bit his tongue for a few minutes to allow the man a moment to order. Then, he started slowly, not wanting to overwhelm him. 

“So,” he began, “I um, looked into clubs last night.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. You were right. There’s a shit ton of kinky stuff goin’ down in Chicago.”

“I figured,” Benny chuckled. 

“Yeah, so there’re places where ya can just call and make an appointment and they’ll assign you a playmate. It’s like getting a hooker but with pain instead of sex.”

“Well,” huffed Benny, “ya had me goin’ for a second there. Some pain with my sex? I’m in. But pain _ instead _ of sex? Not so much brotha.”

“Yeah, that was my thought too,” admitted Dean. “If I’m gonna pay by the hour for someone to hurt me a little, there better be a happy ending.”

“That’s right brotha,” laughed Benny.

“I also found one that’s more of a secret club. No one gets charged by the hour - everyone just pays a membership fee to be part of it. But, it’s only open for scheduled events and there’s no guarantee of hookin’ up. You just go to the event and maybe you meet someone.”

“That’s more like it,” replied Benny. “At least there’s the chance of a happy ending.”

Unable to hold back his excitement, Dean grinned and continued to fill his friend in on the details. He explained that the club had a vetting process, that there was actual paperwork to fill out for membership. But, once members paid the annual fee, they were welcome at any and all events for the year.  

“So,” added Dean, “this place has, like, room after room of equipment for people to use. Some people go in there and act out scenes, and some people just walk around and watch. There’s a dungeon monitor in each room that makes sure everyone is safe and following the rules. There’s a bar area where you can hang out or try to meet someone and you can even ask people about their scenes and stuff. There’s even a kitchen where people can eat and drink and avoid conversation when they’re done and don’t wanna talk anymore. Dude, there’s even a medical room in case someone gets hurt.”

“Sounds pretty cool.”

“Careful there, Benny,” teased Dean, “you almost sound interested.”

“I’m not  _ un _ interested,” he grinned. 

Hearing that, Dean swelled with hope. He wanted desperately to go and check it out. But, deep down, he knew he would never be able to go in alone. 

“If you’d come with me to check it out,” said Dean, “I’d pay.”

“It’s  _ that _ pricy?”

“Yeah... You in?”

“I’m in,” he chuckled. “Honestly, Dean, I’m probably just as curious as you are.”

“Our secret though, right?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Crossing the lot from the diner to the shop, Dean tried to shake off the BDSM stuff and talk about something else. He was thrilled that Benny was willing to explore things with him a bit and didn’t want to end up annoying him by talking about it too much. 

For the rest of the day, Dean kept his yap shut. But his mind was still spinning in overdrive. When he got home that evening, he only had a few minutes to sit down at the computer before leaving for the restaurant. But he took the time to get online, click on one of the bookmarked pages, and scribble down the dates that he and Benny would need to choose from. This venue, unlike regular bars and clubs, wasn’t open nightly. Sadly, the club he’d chosen was only open certain nights for certain events, and was only open to registered members. 

Several weeks went by during which time Dean filled out applications for both himself and Benny. The forms were surprisingly intricate, going so far as to have them list their preferred kinks, their medical conditions, an emergency contact, and any medications they were taking. The rules had to be read and agreed to and the warnings made it crystal clear that breaking any rule was grounds for expulsion without reimbursement of fees paid. Dean took care of every last detail, even for Benny. He felt so giddy that he was practically giggling when he used his imagination to fill in Benny’s presumed kinks in the ‘preferences’ section. 

As the intended day grew closer, Dean began to feel like a piece of rope with both ends frayed. He’d been humming with electricity for days, vividly imagining what he’d find when he finally took a plunge down this rabbit hole. But, he also felt a sense of trepidation and fear. What if he jumped into the pool only to find that he couldn’t swim?

To make matters worse, a few days before they were meant to head to Chicago, Benny told Dean that he wasn’t even sure he was up for going. 

The big ox had been moping around at work for days but hadn’t been interested in talking about it. When he finally accepted Dean’s invitation to come out for beer the night before they were supposed to leave, he seemed ready to talk. And, honestly, Dean was dying to know what the hell was was going on. 

They left straight from work and headed for the bar. As soon as they stepped out of the back door of the shop, Benny was lighting up a cigarette. He offered only stilted, one-word answers to Dean’s questions at first. But, once they settled on bar stools and  started throwing back shots, he came clean about what was going on. 

The problem was Andrea. Benny had been wondering about her for a while now and just last night, he had found out for sure that she had another guy on the side. Knowing how very devoted Benny had been to his beautiful girl, Dean genuinely felt bad for him.

He listened as Benny went over the details of how he’d come to suspect, and eventually prove, that his girl was unfaithful. 

“Do ya know what that’s like, Dean?”

Unable to relate at all, he simply shook his head.

“I was so sure that she was the one. I mean, I really felt somethin’ for her. And I did her right, Dean, I did. I quit lookin’ at anyone else. I was good to her… so damn good. I did it all like I’m supposed to. I told her how I felt and made sure she knew I was in it for the long haul.”

Again, Dean could only nod along, having never been in a position to be burned like Benny had been. He’d never actually gotten much farther than a quick lay with anyone. Ever. The few times he’d found himself interested in someone for more than a night, circumstance would pull them apart. 

“Man, I guess all I really did was make myself small to her,” confided Benny. “I guess I shoulda done what I usually do… ya know? Shoulda just kept her guessin’, kept her wonderin’ about me. Never shoulda started treatin’ her right man. They all say that’s what they want, but the minute ya give ‘em what they want, they don’t want it anymore.”

“M’sorry, man,” said Dean honestly. “You don’t deserve it.”

“You still goin’ to Chicago tomorrow? Even if I don’t go?”

“Dunno,” he admitted. “I hadn’t really thought about that.”

“Hell, I should probably just go with ya. I mean, I said I would and you already paid. I just don’t know if I’ll be good company. I ain’t feelin’ right.”

“Look Ben, if you don’t go, I’ll understand.”

Staring down at the half empty bourbon glass in his hand, Benny said, “Ya know, goin’ along would probably be a nice distraction.”

“Ya think?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Well, if what I’m out to do is forget her, what better way to do it than on my knees while some hot blonde in leather boots and fishnets spanks my bare ass.”

“Dude.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled again, “I keep forgettin’ that you do dudes. Probably doesn’t sound too appealing huh?”

“Um, I don’t do  _ just _ dudes, Ben. I mean, right now I’m pretty into a dude, but that’s not all I’m into. So... does the idea of a hot blonde with a whip gross me out? Fuck no. I’m only human, man. I’d bend over for that too.”

“I said spank, not whip.”

“The whip is hot.”

Fully laughing now, Benny nodded agreement and said, “Yeah. The whip is hot.”

And so, the following evening, Dean found himself sitting behind the wheel of his baby, tearing up the highway towards Chicago with Benny in the passenger seat. The ride to the city didn’t take as long as he’d thought. But, once they got into the city, progress was considerably slower. Traffic was a nightmare and they took the wrong exit twice. 

To make matters worse, when they finally arrived at the venue, it was so nondescript that they wondered if they even had the correct address. 

Sitting in the car like two detectives on a stakeout, Dean and Benny watched the entrance for a while just to be sure this was the right place. For some reason, Dean had pictured the club being located in a seedy part of town. But this place, snuggled into a charming and moneyed neighborhood, wasn’t what he’d pictured at all. He’d seen pictures of the rooms inside but for some reason had still pictured a rough and gritty looking facade on the outside. This, by contrast, was charming and idyllic. The surrounding streets were narrow but clean, lined with minivans and Volvos and mature shade trees. The entire area was dotted with parks and upscale shopping. 

Watching the place for a few minutes, Dean took in the architecture of the buildings. Each was similar, tall and narrow with a tiny postage-stamp sized front yard. Most of the homes in this neighborhood were single family units that were two and a half stories tall with artful brickwork and stately staircases. Watching, Dean saw a few people enter. Nothing about their appearances gave away this location as a club of any kind, let alone one catering to people with a leaning towards kinky sex. In fact, to neighbors and passers-by, this gathering probably appeared to be a party or get-together of the mundane variety. 

“Do or die time,” croaked Dean.

“What if we get up there and this is the wrong place?” 

“Then we’ll just ask directions to the BDSM club,” he laughed. Most of the arrivals they’d seen had arrived in cabs or had walked up on the sidewalk. Dean, however, had secured one of the few parking spaces left on the street. He locked up his baby and then joined Benny in walking across the street. Dean was carrying himself confidently, or at least, he hoped he was. But on the inside, he was riding a fine line between nauseatingly nervous and feverishly eager.

Upon entering they were greeted warmly by a woman in a dark pantsuit who introduced herself as Mistress and asked if it was their first time. As they talked to her, they were ushered into a small room where she went over the rules and expectations and then asked if they had any questions. 

Benny stayed silent and shook his head no. Dean, managed to croak out, “Not yet.”

“Remember,” she told them, “the dungeon masters in each room are there to help. They are volunteers and they are happy to answer any questions you might have. We have a very close community here at the club and many of us are friends. However, if you see any club members in the real world, you are expected to pretend that you do not know them. It protects the anonymity of our members and breaking this rule is grounds for expulsion. There are no second chances.”

Dean and Benny both nodded solemnly. 

“Every room that’s open is a public area. You are welcomed to use any of the equipment and watch others, just as they watch you. However, it is considered rude to interrupt a scene that you are not part of, to try and enter that scene, or to masturbate to that scene without being invited to do so. 

“It goes without saying that you do not have permission to open closed doors, all of which will be locked anyway. The kitchen and medical room are both considered ‘quiet rooms’ where socialization is not recommended between persons who didn’t enter those spaces together. Also, those spaces are not designated as places where it’s acceptable to linger and watch others. 

“As I mentioned before, the equipment is for common use and it is cleaned between scenes by the dungeon master. In addition to what you see displayed, we do have some equipment for rent and purchase, some toys and supplies for sale. So, if there’s anything you wish to purchase, simply ask the dungeon master. Now, before I send you out into the common areas, I’ll give you one last chance to ask questions.”

“I can’t think of one,” chuckled Dean. Looking over at Benny for the first time, Dean laughed out loud as he asked, “Why can’t I think of one?”

“You will,” reassured Benny.

Once they’d finished with what Dean assumed to be their welcome/introduction, they were ushered back out into the entryway. From there, there was only one way to go. Stepping through a wide doorway, Dean found himself in what was probably used as a living room in this home’s previous life. Now, however, it was a bar. The walls were painted red and decorated in heavy wooden art pieces that were highly suggestive of the BDSM lifestyle. The U-shaped bar dominated the center of the room and around the outskirts were open spaces. A few small table and chair sets were nestled into corners and there were people milling around. The floor was hardwood and in front of the fireplace there was a huge area rug with a pile of large pillows on it. The flames licking firewood behind the scrolled iron fireplace screen lent the space a warm feeling and the thick, smoky scent of real wood burning permeated the room. 

The guests using this room seemed to be primarily there just to talk, nursing drinks and chatting lightly. Nothing edgy was happening here despite the various states of undress he was seeing. 

Glancing over at Benny with a question in his eyes, he saw his friend tip his head to the left indicating he wanted to keep exploring. Following Benny through another wide doorway, Dean found himself in what had likely been a dining room at one time. This room housed many things that he was now at least vaguely familiar with because of his research. 

One corner was dominated by a St. Andrew’s Cross. No one was using it at this moment, and Dean moved closer to inspect it. Benny didn’t follow, remaining in the center of the room and turning slowly to take in all he was seeing. 

The cross was tall and sturdy. It would hold him. For a moment Dean imagined how it might feel to be anchored to that cross and was surprised to find himself amenable. Especially if it were Dr. Cum Control who had secured him there. 

But then, a moment later, as he realized that he was not alone in this room, Dean felt a cold shiver run up his spine. Re-thinking the scenario while acknowledging that he’d likely be naked with people watching, he found himself wilting. Nope. He was not ready for that yet. Not even for Dr. Cum Control.

Turning to take in the rest of the room, Dean saw the opposite corner held a spanking bench, easily identified because it was in use. A man of small stature was bent humbly over it. He was dressed like a business man. Perhaps he was one. Perhaps not. His jacket was hanging on a hook nearby, but otherwise he was fully clothed. Hovering near his hip was his Dom. She was of average build, and she was dressed in leather from head to toe. Her blood red nails and lips were eye-catching. Holding what Dean recognized as a flogger, she was teasing the strands of it over the man’s back and smiling as he shifted his weight in apprehension of what would come next. Stepping closer, coming to stand beside Benny who was also watching, Dean watched closely as she stepped back and began moving her arm and wrist in a smooth figure eight pattern. Mesmerized by the movement of the flogger, Dean followed her as she leaned in towards her Sub and executed slow and steady swings over the man’s back. 

When he heard the man gasp, Dean’s dick twitched between his legs. 

Benny continued to watch, but Dean began turning in a slow circle much like Benny had when he’d first come into the room. In the third corner, currently not in use, was what looked like a fancy sawhorse. It was finished in a dark stain, had anchored eyelets running up it’s legs at measured intervals, and it’s top was covered in padding and vinyl. Dean could easily imagine several ways that someone could bend him over that sawhorse and as the pictures of it danced through his mind, he had to turn away because he was growing hard in his pants. 

Turning now, he saw that in the final corner was a doorway and posted beside it like a sentry was the dungeon master. When Dean looked the man over with curiosity, his gaze was met with a smirk.  So, embarrassed, he returned his attention to the flogging. 

The action had escalated in the few moments Dean hadn’t been watching and the man’s shirt was now rucked up to reveal his back. It was turning pink as this man’s Dom alternated between the smooth figure eights she’d started with and abrupt snaps of the wrist which seemed to snap the strands sharply over his skin. Each time she surprised him with a snap, the Sub jerked against his restraints. 

Benny elbowed him and whispered, “Damn.”

Dean could only nod in agreement. 

Ready to see more, they moved through the doorway and found themselves in a small alcove. To the right was a staircase and to the left was the kitchen. Remembering what they’d been told about the kitchen, Dean opted for leading the way up the staircase. Every half-dozen steps or so, there was a small square landing and a ninety degree turn. When he finally emerged on the second floor, Dean knew they were in an area of hard-core scenes. The sounds of someone being whipped hung in the air, though they could see nothing yet. This floor was one hallway with several doors on each side and another stairway at the opposite end. Pushing past Dean, Benny began walking down the hall. He stopped short at the first doorway and as Dean caught up to him, he could see why. There was a small crowd, six or seven people, gathered to watch. Peering between them, Dean caught glimpses of a woman tied to a bed. Each of her limbs was anchored to a bed-frame post and she was completely naked. Blindfolded and gagged, this woman couldn’t see how many were watching her, but she could probably hear them as they breathed heavily and occasionally whispered to one another. 

The Dom was a huge man, bigger than Benny, and he’d removed his shirt. Sweat glistened over his back in the low lighting and Dean could see that this couple had been at it a while. The woman was writhing on the bed, arching her back and pulling at her restraints and as he looked more closely, Dean noticed a vibrator buzzing between her legs. As the pleasure built, her Dom would caress her gently with the tip of his riding crop and tease at her nipples. But then, when it was utterly unexpected, he would issue a loud snap… right at the vee of her legs. Dean stood on tiptoes to get a better look, fascinated. Each time she absorbed the sting, she’d cry out sharply behind her gag. Dean’s stomach was spinning with excitement as he watched the scene, and his cock was plump in his pants. 

Turning away, Dean took a deep breath. He’d never been this horny in his life. There was no sound as he moved down the hallway to the next doorway; it was like being in a vacuum or having just stepped off an airplane and when he turned to say something to Benny, he heard his own voice as if he were speaking into a tube. “Benny, this is intense.”

“Yeah, brotha,” he replied, “I can’t believe I almost didn’t come.”

Stopping at the next doorway, Dean peered inside. He watched long enough to know he’d seen all he cared to. “Don’t even look,” he whispered to Benny as he moved to walk past. Benny’s chest rumbled with laughter as though he was choking it down to try and keep quiet. “Now I gotta look”  he whispered, turning back to peek in the doorway.

“Told ya,” chuckled Dean as Benny turned away from the room looking nauseated.

“I’m never gonna un-see that.”

“I’m tryin’ to look out for ya man.”

“Next time I’ll listen brotha.”

Dean wasn’t sure what had grossed Benny out more, the fact that there were two naked gay men in that room, or the fact that one of them was peeing into the other’s mouth. He hoped it was mostly the pee thing and not the gay thing. The idea of his own desires being gross to someone else, especially to a friend, made Dean feel like shit.

“You look first,” teased Benny at the next doorway. And so it went from then on. Dean was charged as the one who would look first and, based on Dean’s reaction, Benny would either look or pass by. 

Everything they saw was fascinating and Dean grew more certain with each passing minute that he was fully interested in the scene. He wanted to come back here again and again. He wanted to learn more about the things he was seeing. He wanted to participate.

When they found themselves on the third floor, though, Dean saw something that pushed him too far. “Don’t,” he said firmly to Benny, turning around to leave, “You don’t wanna see that.”

Taking his word this time, Benny followed when he beat a hasty retreat. “I’ve seen enough,” whispered Dean when they were out of earshot. Passing back by everything they’d seen so far, the two headed back towards the first floor. They didn’t rush though, pausing to stop and watch as they again passed by scenes that they’d been watching earlier. It was intriguing to witness the progress made in their absence. When they finally found themselves back in the bar area, it was probably obvious that they were both exhilarated. “Buy you a drink?” offered Benny.

“Fuck yeah,” growled Dean, pushing himself onto a stool at the bar. 

“I gotta say,” marvelled Benny as they waited for the bar tender, “I definitely got an eyeful tonight.”

“You ‘n me both,” laughed Dean. 

Once they’d been served, Dean began drinking and felt his body start to relax a bit. 

“Was it what you expected?”

“It was better,” said Dean. “And worse,” he chuckled. 

“Yeah. Same here,” admitted Benny.

They were silent for a moment, Benny staring into the amber liquid in his glass while Dean watched the flames flickering in the fireplace. Then, Benny asked him a question he’d not been expecting. 

“How long have you been into dudes?”

He paused, trying to think about it because he wanted to give an honest answer. “It’s hard to say. I mean, for me it kind of evolved over time. So I can’t really give you an age. I can tell you how old I was when I realized that I might be gay, because that was fifth grade. I sat next to John Wagner in science that year and I spent way too long looking at his face and his lips. I kept staring at him. One night I had a dream ‘bout him and creamed in my shorts. So, yeah, fifth grade. Spent most of that year scared shitless. Hid it from my dad, my brother, everyone. Spent a long time thinkin’ I was gay and hatin’ myself for it.” Dean saw the bartender approaching and pushed his glass out to indicate he’d like another. Tipping his head in a silent ‘thank you’, Dean watched the man fill Benny’s glass too before walking away. 

Taking a deep breath, Dean continued. “But then, in eighth grade, I met Rhonda Hurley. Man, Benny, I wanted her from the minute I laid eyes on her. She was really somethin’. I still think of her every time I smell cherry chapstick.”

Benny was nodding along, almost as if he’d known Rhonda too.

“So,” Dean continued, “when I started jerkin’ off to her instead of some dude, I was relieved.  Thought maybe I’d outgrown the whole ‘gay’ thing. But then my junior year, I got the hots for Evan McAllister. He was a baseball player and, goddam. Look I’ll spare you the details but let’s just say he was a ten.” Benny chuckled and tipped back his drink.

“Lemme tell ya,” added Dean, “my head was spun. From boys to girls then back to boys - I didn’t know which way was up. It’s tough growin’ up; I mean, across the board, it’s tough for everybody in one way or another. But with a dad like mine, man, it really sucked. He didn’t make anything easy on me or my brother. Not one damn thing. 

Pausing only long enough to down another swallow and grimace as it burned, Dean went on. “I never did get a taste of Rhonda Hurley; not in high school anyway. But after, I had a pretty hot one-nighter with her. We stayed up the whole night talkin’. She told me she loved kissing girls and feelin’ tits. She was the first person to really know me. I told her everything that night.” Laughing as he remembered, Dean said, “She even conned me into tryin’ on her panties. I was still wearin’ them when she told me what I am… that there’s plenty of other people just like me, and that we have a name. Bi-sexual.”

“I wondered if I was gay when I was in third grade,” said Benny.

Feeling a smile slide onto his face, Dean turned to his friend and asked the obvious question. “Why?”

“Cause I had a friend stayin’ overnight with me. It was late, like, really late. We were still up, goofin’ around under the covers and stuff. We wound up playin’ a game of ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’.”

“And?” prompted Dean, growing more curious.

“And nothin’. That was it. But it wasn’t gross to me. Not at all, man. He touched mine, like, held it between his fingers and turned it around so he could see it. It grew. And his did too, when I took my turn to look at his. So, Dean, here I was, a nine year old boy, that had basically played with his friends pecker. Had mine played with too, and we both got hard from it.”

Unsure if Benny was finished, Dean waited expectantly. He sipped his drink, stared at the fire, and tried to be patient. With a heavy sigh, Benny finally continued. “So a few days later, in gym, this other guy was givin’ Matthew Baxter a hard time ‘cause he couldn’t do a layup. He was always picked on, and that day was no different. They called him a fag and a homo. Well, I had used those words before too. I knew they were insults, but didn’t really understand what they meant. That night, I asked my momma at dinner what those words meant. She told me they meant gay, and that gay meant two men who wanted to have sex with each other instead of with women. 

“So you see Dean, I had those words in my head as insulting long before I knew what they meant. But when I went to bed that night, I was terrified. I thought that because me and my friend had touched each other, it meant I was gay. And, man, I didn’t wanna be. I didn’t wanna be called those kinda names. Didn’t want people callin’ me a fairy or a queer or a homo or nothin’ like that.”

There was a long, tense pause before Benny spoke again. “So, here I am, all grown up,” he finally said. “And I still honestly don’t know if I’m really straight, or if I just scared myself into being straight because of how people treat gay folks. Ya know what I mean?”

“I do,” he nodded. “When you saw the two guys upstairs, what did you think?”

“Hard to say. I was surprised, though in hindsight I realize I shouldn’t have been. But mostly I was creeped out by what they were doin’.”

“Yeah. Definitely not my thing.”

“Hey,” grinned Benny, “that reminds me, what was goin’ on in that last room?”

“The one I told ya not to look in?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure you wanna know?”

“No,” he laughed. “Lemme git another drink down, then you tell me, alright?”

“Sure thing.”

The two men had several more rounds but thankfully, Benny never remembered to ask Dean about the act he’d been shielded from. Dean assumed there was a name for people who wanted to slide underneath of a person who was taking a shit and watch, but he was glad he didn’t know it. He certainly didn’t want to try and describe this act to Benny - not when they’d grown so close. Without a doubt, Benny was the best friend he’d ever had. Neither of them worked up the nerve to actually try anything sexual while they were at the club. But, having put back a few drinks, they eventually ambled back into the adjacent room to watch a bit longer before heading out. 

“We driving back tonight?” asked Benny when they were climbing back into the Impala.

“We can stay over if you want,” said Dean, “ya know, get a cheap room somewhere. Or, I can drive us back tonight. I’m fine either way. But, I’m buzzin’ pretty hard. Probably best to get some food in me.”

“Just sit here for a while,” said Benny, relaxing back into the seat. 

“You gonna pass out on me?”

“Naw, just restin’ my eyes for a bit.”

“Me too then,” replied Dean, hunkering down and balling up his jacket for use as makeshift pillow.

“I’m glad I came tonight,” smiled Benny from the passenger side. 

“Me too. It wouldn’t have been the same without ya.”

In response, Benny asked, “Would it have been different because you would’ve been too chicken to come at all, or would it have been different because without me along, you’d have dropped trou and let somebody spank ya?”

“That’s for me to know, and you not to know,” laughed Dean. 

“Dean, I gotta be honest with you...”

“Okay,” he responded, a question in his voice.

“I like you Dean. I did, right from the git go. I like havin’ you as a friend. But tonight, man, tonight I’m thinkin’ bout doin’ somethin’ stupid.”

And there it was. That look. Dean knew that look well and he knew the implications of Benny’s words. 

  
  


**What should Dean do?**

Go along with it and mess around with Benny (go to chapter 10)

Laugh it off and don’t risk their friendship (go to chapter 11)


	10. Ten

With his beloved Impala still parked along the curb outside the club, enjoying a strong buzz and an obvious flirtation, Dean looked over at his passenger to say, “Somethin’ stupid, huh?” Scootching a bit closer and letting his eyes rest on Benny, he said, “Man, I’m the fuckin’ king of doin’ somethin’ stupid. What’cha got in mind?”

“Dunno, brotha, I just keep thinkin’ bout those guys we saw upstairs.”

“The golden shower boys? Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I grew up straight as an arrow. I toldja that. And I like the girls, Dean, ya know I do.” Benny sighed before continuing and turned away from Dean to stare at the ceiling as he spoke. “But,” he admitted, “I’m honestly not sure if I’m straight, or if I just scared myself straight back when I was a kid. Who knows right? Maybe I’m like you. Maybe I like both.”

“I think you woulda figured that out on your own by now,” said Dean, knowing he was right.

“Dean. Seein’ those two guys… seein’ them together like that… it wasn’t gross to me. Not at all. Not til I saw exactly what they were doin’. Now that,” he laughed heartily, “that grossed me the fuck out.”

“Yeah, not my thing either,” Dean replied firmly.

“What I’m sayin’ is, I think I wanna try it. With a dude. See if I like it. What’cha think of that, huh?”

Benny was still staring at the roof, but from his reclined seat on the driver’s side, Dean noticed the man’s breaths growing uneven. The air in the car was growing thicker and it was a bit stuffy with the windows up. “I think...” replied Dean ambiguously, pretending he didn’t know where this conversation was headed, “... you should try it if you want to. See what’cha think.”

“You don’t think that’d be doin’ something stupid?”

Dean took a deep breath and kept his eyes focused on the man across from him as he replied, “Course not.”

“But it _would_ be stupid,” replied Benny, his voice dropping to a whisper, “to play around like that with a friend, right?”

“Probably,” Dean answered honestly, watching the way the moonlight filtered in through the fogging window and cast a silvery glow around the man’s burly profile.

“It might open up a big ol’ can ‘o worms,” Benny admitted cautiously. “But then again, you’ve got somebody already… somebody you want and can’t have. So do I. It ain’t like we’re gonna have to worry bout one of us gettin’ jealous or havin’ hurt feelings after, right? I mean, maybe it’s not so stupid. Besides, brotha, after a couple hours in that club, you gotta be horny as fuck. I know I am.”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna do somethin’ about it?” husked Benny, finally turning to face Dean again.

“Fuck yeah.”

With the acknowledgement still fresh and hanging in the air between them, Dean waited. He watched the man’s bearded face soften a bit and then slowly spread into a sly grin. “Well c’mon then,” he said teasingly. “You’re the experienced one here, you gonna make a move or not?”

Sliding over, Dean freed his knees from under the steering wheel and moved to the middle of their shared bench seat. In response, Benny rolled onto his side to face him. As he pushed his body up against Benny’s, there was an awkward moment where he didn’t know what to do with his left leg.

The natural compulsion was to sling it over top of Benny, wrap himself up in the man and sink into a deep kiss. But that wasn’t a good idea. As much as Dean liked his friend being open to the possibilities of man-on-man action, it was unlikely that the guy was actually inclined towards other men at all. Benny had to be in his late twenties or early thirties.  If he had any desire for his own kind, he’d have felt something for someone by now, Dean was sure of it.

So, knowing that his friend was probably not going to enjoy this as much as Dean would, he made an effort to hold back. Go slow. Not overwhelm the man and make him sorry he’d been open to this new experience.

Though his position was awkward, Dean laid on the reclined seat facing his friend and kept his limbs to himself with the exception of one tentative hand that he now reached out. He was watching his own hand as it came to rest, palm down, on Benny’s thigh. Neither of them was breathing. Benny didn’t move.

Knowing it was easier for both of them without eye contact, Dean kept his sights focused on Benny’s shirt buttons as he leaned in. Rather than go directly to the lips, he approached slowly, his chin brushing the cotton of Benny’s shirt collar as he pressed himself up to the man’s neck.

This moment was when Dean finally drew a breath and, as the scent of Benny’s aftershave registered with Dean’s body, he pressed his lips to the other man’s skin. It wasn’t easy holding back or going slow. He’d been attracted to Benny from the first time he’d met him and having just spent hours in various states of arousal, his cock was filling fast as the possibility of sex presented itself.

The salty taste of Benny’s skin was on Dean’s lips as he pulled away by half an inch, giving Benny a chance to tap out if he didn’t want to continue. But, when a beat passed and his friend didn’t move away, Dean tipped his head a bit and went back in; this time he licked his lips before making contact. He could feel Benny’s body stiffen a little as he registered the difference between a dry kiss and a wet one. Hungry for more, Dean was thrilled when he wasn’t halted. Working his way higher, Dean slowly peppered a string of small kisses up over the jawline on his way to connect his lips to Benny’s. Through scruffy beard he continued, and it was impossible not to smile when he felt his friend actually turn his face into the kiss. To his utter amazement, Benny was also smiling at the moment that their lips met.

The stuffy stillness of their environment melted away as the two sank into kissing and Dean warmed inside when he felt Benny’s heavy hand come to rest on his hip. When he felt the kiss breaking, his friend pulling back, Dean didn’t have to fear rebuke. He simply waited a beat to see what Benny would say or do.

“So far so good,” husked his friend. “You’re good. Man, that guy Cas don’t know what he’s missin’.”

Appreciating the sentiment, Dean sought to reciprocate. So, as he returned to kissing Benny’s neck, he murmured, “Andrea’s a fool.”

When the man sighed, Dean could tell that his words had hurt as much as they’d helped. Since there was nothing he could say to make Benny feel better, he opted for distraction instead. With emboldened hands, Dean began working the buttons open on Benny’s shirt starting from the bottom. Watching skin reveal itself, Dean realized how different things would be between them after this. Even if this was a one-time thing, for as long as they knew each other, they’d always remember the smell and taste of one another… and Dean would always remember that Benny had tiny freckles dusted across his abdomen.

Consequences be damned, Dean abandoned Benny’s shirt and left it half undone as his eager hands set to work on the man’s belt buckle. The clinking sounds of it being undone filled the small space around them and Benny’s breath hitched in his throat. Dean heard that too. Briefs. Huh. He’d figured Benny for a boxers man.

Benny shifted on the seat, putting the flats of his feet to the floor and assisting Dean in sliding his jeans and underwear down his thighs. Seeing Benny’s semi-hard member roll around as his pants were lowered made Dean’s mouth water. He didn’t wait. With vigor, Dean lunged to take that dick into his mouth and he felt a surge of pride and self-satisfaction when Benny’s body heaved upward in pleasure.

“Fuck,” whispered Benny as he grew large in Dean’s mouth.

It was cramped in the car and Dean had to work to get a leg up under him on the seat so his angle would be right. But, with that accomplished, he began polishing Benny’s shaft with his tongue. Each time he rolled over the tip, Dean paused to tease the tip before moving on. Once he’d wetted the entire length a few times over, he curled his lips over his teeth and sank down. He didn’t bob his head right away, choosing instead to go slow and open wide, adjusting his angle so that the tip could gently bump the back of his throat.

Feeling his gag reflex kick in, Dean’s body shivered in delight. Working up and down quite slowly, he teased it until he started feeling the thick saliva from his throat ease the way. Then, mostly to show off his skills, Dean stretched his neck and locked his jaw to open himself. Allowing that huge cock to spread his throat wide was marginally painful and undeniably exciting. Feeling Benny’s heavy hand come to rest on his head sent a bolt of electricity down his spine and suddenly Dean was aware of his own cock, still curled a bit in his jeans with no room to unfold as it grew hard. Lifting himself again, Dean backed off of Benny’s cock and licked the tip while he wrestled with his own zipper and tried to free himself.

To his surprise, Dean felt Benny’s rough hand on his forehead and it pulled him up and away from the five star blow job he’d been trying to give. He looked questioningly at Benny as he sat back on his haunches, but it was easy to see by the expression on his friend’s face that this little romp was over.

“I can’t,” panted Benny.

Immediately, Dean filled with disappointment. He’d been so careful because he knew that this would probably happen. But, still, he’d thought things were going well. Unable to look his friend in the face, Dean busied himself with returning to a normal sitting position as he waited for Benny to finish articulating some kindly worded version of ‘thanks but no thanks’. But, again, Benny surprised him. Managing to finish his thought through heavy breathing, Benny said, “I can’t. I can’t repay this.”

Dean looked up and met the man’s eye.

“Dean, man, I like it okay? I do. You’re damn good. But I just realized that there’s no way I can return the favor and it just don’t feel right to let you keep goin’ if I know I’m gonna cop out when it’s time to switch.”

“You don’t have to blow me, Ben. I never expected that.”

“I know. But if you finish and then I leave you hangin’, I’ll feel like shit. I’ll feel like I used you - and that ain’t what this is. At least, not for me.”

“Thanks,” whispered Dean, feeling sad despite knowing that he shouldn’t.

“Hey man, c’mere,” said Benny, his voice soft and warm.

Dean, having not realized that his gaze had dropped back down to his lap, had to work to hide the disappointment on his face as he looked up again.

Benny was leaning in. Dean closed his eyes as his friend brought their faces together for a kiss. Letting Benny lead this time, Dean opened when he felt his friend’s tongue press in. Benny leaned into the kiss and wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulders. He’d already known he was lucky to have a friend like Benny. But now, as his friend kissed genuine affection into his mouth, Dean felt very privileged to have been entrusted with this experience. Not wanting to pressure his friend for anything more, Dean carefully tugged his half-open fly a bit until the bulge between his legs was more comfortably positioned and then he left it alone.

Probably sensing Dean’s mindset, Benny pulled away and chuckled darkly as he gruffly asked, “Why am I the only one in the car with his dick out?”

Dean grinned and set to work on shucking his pants down. It was almost comical watching Benny decide whether or not he was going to look at Dean’s cock. After a brief deliberation, he did. However, the man didn’t comment on it. He simply resumed kissing Dean. As the man switched from deep, wet kisses to small pecks to the side of Dean’s face, he whispered, “Is this okay?”

That’s when Dean realized that Benny had taken himself in hand. He was stroking. “Yeah,” whispered Dean, bringing his hand over to cup himself. “Me too?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Dean curled his fingers around his own shaft, his tip pulsing slick juice as his ears picked up the sounds of the man next to him jacking off. Smooshed together in the front seat of Dean’s baby, with their heads tilting towards one another, both men turned their attention to pleasure. Dean felt his stomach curl in anticipation of a climax and the bottom half of his body began to tingle. Wondering if it was acceptable to watch Benny jerking, Dean chanced a quick glance and was stunned to see that Benny was actually watching him.

Afraid to break the spell by speaking, Dean kept quiet and let his eyes take in the virile glory of Benny’s fat cock, dark at its tip, emerging over and over again from the tight grip of his friends fist. Side by side, heads lolling together and exchanging occasional kisses, Dean and Benny worked themselves over. When he came, Dean’s head was resting on the man’s shoulder and Benny came just a hot minute later, his deep moan of satisfaction making Dean shiver.

In the aftermath, both laughed softly as they used napkins from Dean’s glove box to try and clean up.

“It’s gonna be a long damn drive,” sighed Dean as he deemed himself to be as clean as he was going to get. Arching his back to pull his pants up, Dean then scooted back over to the driver’s seat.

“We could get a room if ya want,” volunteered Benny, still zipping up.

Dean nodded, turning to smile at his friend as he started up the car and began to pull away from the curb.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he retorted as he bent forward to roll down his window. “Just meant that, yeah, it’s a long damn drive. And I know I’m tired. So, if you wanna stay over, I’ll chip in half for the room.”

“You’re just tryin’ to get my sexy ass in a bed,” teased Dean, hoping he could humorously transition back from their shared afterglow to normal ‘buddy’ dynamics.

“There’s worse that could happen,” Benny grinned back.

“I think I can make it back,” answered Dean while suppressing a yawn. “Sleep if ya want to.”

“Thanks,” said Benny. “And in case you’re wondering,” he added, “I’m straight.”

Turning to his friend, Dean burst out laughing and said, “I know.”

“You’re good though,” said Benny, leaning forward to turn on the radio. “If I could be turned, you woulda done it.”

“Thanks man,” replied Dean. As he drove them out of Chicago, Dean had things he wanted to articulate. He wanted his friend to know that he appreciated the way he’d been treated and that his feelings being taken into consideration at every turn. But mostly he wanted to express his hope that their romp tonight wouldn’t impede their ability to remain good friends. Sadly, the words wouldn’t come.

As minutes ticked by, Dean drove in silence while Benny snored in passenger seat. It was very late when they finally rumbled into Pontiac. After dropping Benny off, Dean headed home.

Scheduled to work the lunch shift on Sunday at Bernardi’s, Dean didn’t wind up getting a whole lot of sleep. But the next morning, still feeling the high from all he’d seen and done last night, he was practically giddy, humming in fact, as he brushed his teeth. He even sang along with the radio on his way to the restaurant.

After work, he stopped by the store for a case of beer. Grabbing a large container of pre-made queso from the deli, he brought his items through the checkout and then headed over to Jimmy’s.

Upon arrival, Dean greeted the rest of his friends who were all eating and drinking their way through the pregame commentary and then made his way to the kitchen.

Seeing Jimmy bent over to extract something from the oven, Dean said, “Hey Jimmy.”

“Winchester,” he answered, pulling out a cookie sheet and laying it on the stove top. “How’s it hangin’ man?”

“Can’t complain,” replied Dean, dropping his bag on the counter. “You got a bowl for this?”

Turning to face him for the first time, Jimmy looked at the jar of queso Dean was holding and appeared to estimate the type of container needed. He reached up into a nearby cabinet and pulled one down, handing Dean a lidded glass bowl that was obviously meant for the microwave. As Dean set to work, Jimmy turned back to his cookies, taking warm ones from the baking sheet and laying them on an adjacent cooling rack.

“Those smell good,” Dean commented as he took a spoon and began scooping his cheese dish into into a proper container.

“Lisa brought them. Frozen dough,” he chuckled with an eye roll, “She’s no Martha Stewart.”

From behind them, Lisa’s voice intruded saying, “Yeah, but I give good head.”

“Jury’s still out on that,” Jimmy shot back without missing a beat, “I believe I was meant to be the tie-breaking vote.”

“In your dreams,” she retorted. Then, turning to Dean she said, “I didn’t even see you come in.”

“Just got here,” he answered. She relieved him of the cheese dish and he stepped aside as she stirred it up, covered it with the lid and shoved it in the microwave.

“This is more my skill level,” she laughed. “The microwave is my friend. If I have to wait for it to cook in the oven, odds are in favor of me burning it.”

With his hands relieved of their only job, Dean turned to his bag and pulled the beer out. Taking one for himself and offering one to both Jimmy and Lisa, Dean turned to put the rest into the fridge.

Jimmy leaned back on the counter next to Dean and they clinked their bottle necks together before taking the first drink. “Restaurant busy today?” he asked.

“Nope. Walked out fifteen minutes early.”

The two of them grew quiet as they watched Lisa take over for Jimmy at the stove. She opened another package of cookie dough and began breaking the individual pieces apart to arrange them on the baking sheet.

“Good tips?” muttered Jimmy.

Dean shrugged, saying only, “Eh.”

Nursing beers, both of them continued to watch Lisa, grinning as they checked out her ass when she bent over to put the next round of cookies into the oven.

“I thought I smelled cookies,” said Jo as she strutted into the kitchen. Following behind her was the man Dean hadn’t recognized when he arrived. Jo moved over to join Lisa and the two of them set about taking cookies from the cooling rack and arranging them on a large platter. The two fell into gossiping as they worked, paying no attention to Dean and Jimmy who were still watching as they nursed their beers.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” said the newcomer, stepping forward and extending his hand towards Dean.

“Dean Winchester,” he said by way of introduction. The man’s handshake was firm and his demeanor was quite pleasant. But, he was handsome and British so he carried himself with a confidence that bordered on aloof. “Balthazar Roche,” he said in response. “But everyone calls me Zar.”

“Nice to meetcha,” answered Dean. “So how do you know Jimmy?”

“Well, through Castiel of course. We work together at the clinic. I’m a surgeon.”

“Oh,” stammered Dean, suddenly remembering that Cas lived here too. “T-That’s nice.”

“Well then,” said Zar, turning to scan his eyes over the food which was spread out on the breakfast bar, “I suppose I’ll make myself a plate.”

Dean nodded and watched as the man turned away from them and began dishing up cocktail sausages, chips and dip. Dean’s mind was churning now, wondering if Cas would be joining them to watch the game and wondering how to act around him if he did. Just then, the man appeared. He was dressed exquisitely, looking far too nice for a sunday afternoon football game. Dean’s eyes raked over the man’s blue suit and complementary red tie.

“Zar,” said Cas in a deep and commanding voice, “what are you doing?”

“Darling,” replied the Brit dramatically, “You took so sodding long to get ready that I thought I’d try these manky bangers.”

Dean had no idea what that meant, but he watched as Cas strode across the kitchen and took the plate of snack food from Zar. “There’s going to be food at the venue,” he said by way of explanation, “and you’ve already managed to get sauce on your tie.”

Dean chuckled as he watched the man look down and see that Cas was right.

“Bollocks,” he cursed, “Have you got another?”

“Yes,” replied Cas with a deep chuckle. “Perhaps one with a dizzying pattern this time so that the food you’ll spill won’t show?”

Dean watched the two men intently, wondering if this was Castiel’s boyfriend?

“Jimmy,” said Cas, looking towards his brother, “what ever happened to that tie you got from dad last christmas?”

“The one with the dancing bears on it?”

“That’s the one,” he replied, his lips holding a firm line that indicated the suppression of a smile.

“Yeah, I think I do,” grinned Jimmy, pushing away from the counter as if to leave and go get the tie in question.

“Don’t bother,” said Zar to Jimmy, “I have no intention of allowing your brother to humiliate me. I’d prefer wearing the one with sauce on it.”

Lisa and Jo, having finished their cookie platter and restocked the various bowls of chips, turned to the Brit and proceeded to fawn all over him. They complimented his accent and giggled when he referred to their cookies as biscuits. Dean, all the while, was watching Cas. He was really something.

His posture was stiff and his speech proper. Most anyone else who walked around like they had a stick up their ass would annoy Dean to no end. But for some reason, Dean liked it on Cas.

The man seemed confident, not arrogant. Polite but not prudish. Commanding but not bossy. And hidden just beneath the man’s surface were subtle traces of laughter, kindness, and joy. A tiny bit of each seeped out despite his controlled features.

When the rest of the group burst out laughing, Cas only flicked the tiniest tease of a smile and Dean loved it. He loved that it was like a secret he’d stumbled upon, the hidden amusement of a very composed man.

Suddenly, the words, “Earth to Dean,” broke through and Dean realized that several pairs of eyes were glued on him as Jimmy broke out laughing and said, “You hear that annoying beeping sound?”

“Um, yeah,” he answered, his brain snapping back to the real world.

“That would be your queso… in the microwave…”

Caught staring at Cas, again, Dean ducked his head and turned to the microwave. Humiliated, he took his time tending to the cheese dip so that he could keep his back to the group for as long as possible. He removed the glass dish carefully and took off the lid. Then, as he slowly stirred it, he listened to the conversation at his back move on without him.

Soon, Cas and Zar were saying their good-bye’s to the group. Apparently they were headed to a wine tasting event with some other doctors from their clinic. Dean hated the fierce blush that he knew was coloring his cheeks. To make matters worse, before actually leaving, Cas made sure to say goodbye to him by name which forced him to show his red face to the man as he acknowledged with a quick, “bye”. It wasn’t as though he’d been singled out. Actually Cas had said farewell to all the guests in the kitchen as he and Zar made their exit. He was just polite like that.

From behind him, Dean noticed Jo and Lisa’s voices growing distant and he knew they’d headed back out to the living room. He replaced the lid on the queso and pushed it back into the microwave, resetting it one last time.

When he turned around again, he and Jimmy were alone.

“Dude,” said Jimmy, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he replied, hoping his face wasn’t giving too much away.

“I just - I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?” he asked innocently, grabbing his half empty beer bottle so he’d have something to do with his hands.

“I knew you were carrying a fiery torch for somebody. I just didn’t realize that it was my brother.”

Dean felt Jimmy’s words like a swift kick to the gut. “I didn’t know it was that obvious.”

“Maybe not to anyone else,” placated Jimmy, “but like I told you before… I know the look.”

“M’sorry,” he said before taking a long swig.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” replied Jimmy, patting Dean on the back. “It’s not like we can control who we want, right? Hell, if we could, our choices would make some fucking sense. But they never do, do they?”

“Nope.”

In a blatantly obvious attempt to cheer Dean, Jimmy executed a flawless imitation of Zar’s limey accent and pushed a cookie towards Dean. “Biscuit?” he asked jokingly.

With a reluctant smile, Dean took the treat and bit into warm chocolatey goodness.

Feeling his spirits lift just a smidge, Dean took his best shot at a British accent and jokingly replied, “You’re a good bloke, Jimmy.”

Over the next week or two, Dean managed to forget about his poor showing in front of Castiel. It wasn’t the first time he’d flubbed in the man’s presence and it probably wouldn’t be the last.  

Dean continued working at the shop, waiting tables and tending bar at the restaurant, enjoying Cas’s videos, and researching BDSM in his down time.

Benny had been damn decent company at the BDSM club in Chicago. However, for obvious reasons, when Dean decided to return to the club for another event, he didn’t ask Benny to go with him.

 

**Go to chapter 12.**


	11. Eleven

Dean knows he’d be a liar if he denied interest in Benny. He was very attractive, Dean had thought so right from the start. However, he’d never really let his mind stray down that path. Benny, Dean was sure, wasn’t into dudes. Despite his remarks about being shamed into ‘straightness’ as a child, Benny had to be in his late twenties or early thirties. So, if he was at all inclined towards the male form, he would have felt something for someone by now. Dean was sure of it. If he hadn’t had any yearnings by now, he likely never would. But, not wanting to make assumptions, Dean figured he’d better clarify.

“Something stupid?” he laughed, “Man, I’m the fuckin’ king of ‘somethin’ stupid’. But seriously Ben, in all your life, have you ever met a guy that you actually wanted to get a piece of?”

Dean was still smiling as he watched Benny deliberate for a moment.

“Don’t think so,” he answered, scratching the back of his neck, “I mean, how would I know?”

Dean let out a howl of fresh laughter and answered his friends question with another question. “Dude. How the fuck do you know when you wanna bone a chick?”

Slowly, a smile began to spread across his friends face. “I see your point,” Benny chuckled. “Man,” he added, “I must be horny as fuck. I ‘bout put the moves on ya, Winchester.”

“Ben, that woulda been hard to turn down,” Dean admitted, thankful that the awkward moment was past. “I gotta say, I think that lots of guys are kinda ‘scared straight’ in the way you’re talkin’ about. But that only lasts so long when the hormones start kickin’ in. No matter how scared I was to admit it sometimes, I couldn’t deny what I felt… what I wanted. There was just no denying it.”

“How are you not dyin’ to get off?” challenged Benny, “After seein’ what we just saw… I need a warm body or a tight fist, and I need it somethin’ awful.”

“Me too,” agreed Dean, “and hey, if ya wanna go back in the club and see if there’s a lady in fishnets that wants to spank your ass, I’m cool with it.”

“Naw man. That was, well, let’s just say I’m not ready for somethin’ like that with everybody standin’ around and watchin.” joked Benny.

“That makes two of us,” laughed Dean. “And hittin’ a bar to try and pick up somebody’s probably out of the question. As late as it is, by the time we find a spot, it’ll be last call. But, instead of goin’ home, we could grab a room for the night if ya want. That puts ya at least two hours closer to the privacy of a shower?”

“Naw, man, I’ll live. Let’s just head for home.”

Suppressing a chuckle at the absurdity of their conversation, Dean started up the car and pulled out onto the quiet street. It was quite late when he finally dropped Benny off but that didn’t stop Dean from hitting the Dr. Cum Control website and choosing a video to get off to. He made short work of it and then fell asleep messy afterwards.

Sadly, he was scheduled for the lunch shift at Bernardi’s on Sunday so he didn’t get much sleep before he had to roll out bed and head to work. Afterwards, Dean headed to the grocery store to pick up beer and queso. Then, he headed over to Jimmy’s place to watch the football game. It was late fall now and a cool breeze was blowing dry leaves across the driveway at Jimmy’s when Dean walked up to the door. He was greeted warmly by his friends who were already watching pre-game commentary. Everyone had beers and plates of junk food in their laps. Carrying his goods to the kitchen, Dean found Jimmy there and said hello.

“Winchester,” he answered, pulling out a cookie sheet and laying it on the stove top. “How’s it hangin’ man?”

“Can’t complain,” replied Dean, dropping his bag on the counter. “You got a bowl for this?”

Turning to face him for the first time, Jimmy looked at the jar of queso Dean was holding and appeared to estimate the type of container needed. He reached up into a nearby cabinet and pulled one down, handing Dean a lidded glass bowl that was obviously meant for the microwave. As Dean set to work, Jimmy turned back to his cookies, taking warm ones from the baking sheet and laying them on an adjacent cooling rack.

“Those smell good,” Dean commented as he took a spoon and began scooping his cheese dish into into a proper container.

“Lisa brought them. Frozen dough,” he chuckled with an eye roll, “She’s no Martha Stewart.”

From behind them, Lisa’s voice intruded saying, “Yeah, but I give good head.”

“Jury’s still out on that,” Jimmy shot back without missing a beat, “I believe I was meant to be the tie-breaking vote.”

“In your dreams,” she retorted. Then, turning to Dean she said, “I didn’t even see you come in.”

“Just got here,” he answered. She relieved him of the cheese dish and he stepped aside as she stirred it up, covered it with the lid and shoved it in the microwave.

“This is more my skill level,” she laughed. “The microwave is my friend. If I have to wait for it to cook in the oven, odds are in favor of me burning it.”

With his hands relieved of their only job, Dean turned to his bag and pulled the beer out. Taking one for himself and offering one to both Jimmy and Lisa, Dean turned to put the rest into the fridge.

Jimmy leaned back on the counter next to Dean and they clinked their bottle necks together before taking the first drink. “Restaurant busy today?” he asked.

“Nope. Walked out fifteen minutes early.”

The two of them grew quiet as they watched Lisa take over for Jimmy at the stove. She opened another package of cookie dough and began breaking the individual pieces apart to arrange them on the baking sheet.

“Good tips?” muttered Jimmy.

Dean shrugged, saying only, “Eh.”

Nursing beers, both of them continued to watch Lisa, grinning as they checked out her ass when she bent over to put the next round of cookies into the oven.

“I thought I smelled cookies,” said Jo as she strutted into the kitchen. Following behind her was the man Dean hadn’t recognized when he arrived. Jo moved over to join Lisa and the two of them set about taking cookies from the cooling rack and arranging them on a large platter. The two fell into gossiping as they worked, paying no attention to Dean and Jimmy who were still watching as they nursed their beers.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” said the newcomer, stepping forward and extending his hand towards Dean.

“Dean Winchester,” he said by way of introduction. The man’s handshake was firm and his demeanor was quite pleasant. But, he was handsome and British so he carried himself with a confidence that bordered on aloof. “Balthazar Roche,” he said in response. “But everyone calls me Zar.”

“Nice to meetcha,” answered Dean. “So how do you know Jimmy?”

“Well, through Castiel of course. We work together at the clinic. I’m a surgeon.”

“Oh,” stammered Dean, suddenly remembering that Cas lived here too. “T-That’s nice.”

“Well then,” said Zar, turning to scan his eyes over the food which was spread out on the breakfast bar, “I suppose I’ll make myself a plate.”

Dean nodded and watched as the man turned away from them and began dishing up cocktail sausages, chips and dip. Dean’s mind was churning now, wondering if Cas would be joining them to watch the game and wondering how to act around him if he did. Just then, the man appeared. He was dressed exquisitely, looking far too nice for a sunday afternoon football game. Dean’s eyes raked over the man’s blue suit and complementary red tie.

“Zar,” said Cas in a deep and commanding voice, “what are you doing?”

“Darling,” replied the Brit dramatically, “You took so sodding long to get ready that I thought I’d try these manky bangers.”

Dean had no idea what that meant, but he watched as Cas strode across the kitchen and took the plate of snack food from Zar. “There’s going to be food at the venue,” he said by way of explanation, “and you’ve already managed to get sauce on your tie.”

Dean chuckled as he watched the man look down and see that Cas was right.

“Bollocks,” he cursed, “Have you got another?”

“Yes,” replied Cas with a deep chuckle. “Perhaps one with a dizzying pattern this time so that the food you’ll spill won’t show?”

Dean watched the two men intently, wondering if this was Castiel’s boyfriend?

“Jimmy,” said Cas, looking towards his brother, “what ever happened to that tie you got from dad last christmas?”

“The one with the dancing bears on it?”

“That’s the one,” he replied, his lips holding a firm line that indicated the suppression of a smile.

“Yeah, I think I do,” grinned Jimmy, pushing away from the counter as if to leave and go get the tie in question.

“Don’t bother,” said Zar to Jimmy, “I have no intention of allowing your brother to humiliate me. I’d prefer wearing the one with sauce on it.”

Lisa and Jo, having finished their cookie platter and restocked the various bowls of chips, turned to the Brit and proceeded to fawn all over him. They complimented his accent and giggled when he referred to their cookies as biscuits. Dean, all the while, was watching Cas. He was really something.

His posture was stiff and his speech proper. Most anyone else who walked around like they had a stick up their ass would annoy Dean to no end. But for some reason, Dean liked it on Cas.

The man seemed confident, not arrogant. Polite but not prudish. Commanding but not bossy. And hidden just beneath the man’s surface were subtle traces of laughter, kindness, and joy. A tiny bit of each seeped out despite his controlled features.

When the rest of the group burst out laughing, Cas only flicked the tiniest tease of a smile and Dean loved it. He loved that it was like a secret he’d stumbled upon, the hidden amusement of a very composed man.

Suddenly, the words, “Earth to Dean,” broke through and Dean realized that several pairs of eyes were glued on him as Jimmy broke out laughing and said, “You hear that annoying beeping sound?”

“Um, yeah,” he answered, his brain snapping back to the real world.

“That would be your queso… in the microwave…”

Caught staring at Cas, again, Dean ducked his head and turned to the microwave. Humiliated, he took his time tending to the cheese dip so that he could keep his back to the group for as long as possible. He removed the glass dish carefully and took off the lid. Then, as he slowly stirred it, he listened to the conversation at his back move on without him.

Soon, Cas and Zar were saying their good-bye’s to the group. Apparently they were headed to a wine tasting event with some other doctors from their clinic. Dean hated the fierce blush that he knew was coloring his cheeks. To make matters worse, before actually leaving, Cas made sure to say goodbye to him by name which forced him to show his red face to the man as he acknowledged with a quick, “bye”. It wasn’t as though he’d been singled out. Actually Cas had said farewell to all the guests in the kitchen as he and Zar made their exit. He was just polite like that.

From behind him, Dean noticed Jo and Lisa’s voices growing distant and he knew they’d headed back out to the living room. He replaced the lid on the queso and pushed it back into the microwave, resetting it one last time.

When he turned around again, he and Jimmy were alone.

“Dude,” said Jimmy, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he replied, hoping his face wasn’t giving too much away.

“I just - I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?” he asked innocently, grabbing his half empty beer bottle so he’d have something to do with his hands.

“I knew you were carrying a fiery torch for somebody. I just didn’t realize that it was my brother.”

Dean felt Jimmy’s words like a swift kick to the gut. “I didn’t know it was that obvious.”

“Maybe not to anyone else,” placated Jimmy, “but like I told you before… I know the look.”

“M’sorry,” he said before taking a long swig.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” replied Jimmy, patting Dean on the back. “It’s not like we can control who we want, right? Hell, if we could, our choices would make some fucking sense. But they never do, do they?”

“Nope.”

In a blatantly obvious attempt to cheer Dean, Jimmy executed a flawless imitation of Zar’s limey accent and pushed a cookie towards Dean. “Biscuit?” he asked jokingly.

With a reluctant smile, Dean took the treat and bit into warm chocolatey goodness.

Feeling his spirits lift just a smidge, Dean took his best shot at a British accent and jokingly replied, “You’re a good bloke, Jimmy.”

Over the next week or two, Dean managed to forget about his poor showing in front of Castiel. It wasn’t the first time he’d flubbed in the man’s presence and it probably wouldn’t be the last.  

Dean continued working at the shop, waiting tables and tending bar at the restaurant, enjoying Cas’s videos, and researching BDSM in his down time.

Benny had been damn decent company at the BDSM club in Chicago. However, for obvious reasons, when Dean decided to return to the club for another event, he didn’t ask Benny to go with him.

  


**Go to chapter 12.**


	12. Twelve

On the way here, Dean had been excited, almost giddy. But walking through the door alone wasn’t easy. He hadn’t expected to feel so vulnerable. Focusing on the bar in the front room, he moved in that general direction and kept his eyes low so as not to garner any unwanted attention. Dean kept to himself as he ordered a drink. He was counting on his pal Jack Daniels to help him relax a little. Ordering two, he downed the first quicky and then began sipping the second. As he did, Dean began to feel the tension seep away, replaced by the warm, fuzzy embrace of alcohol. 

By the time he began his third drink, Dean was feeling more like his normal self. This was just a bar, an environment in which he typically felt right at home. The fact that this venue was patronized by customers who were either wearing restraints or carrying instruments of discipline shouldn’t be cause for discomfort. Neither should the frequency with which patrons exposed themselves for punishment, humiliation, or even just for the titillation of being watched. If anything, he should feel freer here. He should look around openly and try to get a taste of the lifestyle… that was what he’d come here for wasn’t it? 

Indeed it was. There was something inside him, lingering just under the surface, something he’d either never known or never acknowledged before. Last time he was here, that part of him had come roaring out like a lion freed from its cage and he’d paced this place with nervous energy, freely watching others do what he didn’t yet dare. This time, that hidden part of him seemed to be slinking away, fearful of the unknown. Perhaps that was exactly the issue. 

Maybe he was a little worried about what would happen if he embraced this new sexuality that titillated him so much. What if he wound up enjoying wearing a dog collar and being led around like a pet? What would his life be like if he discovered that he actually wanted to have his balls whipped or his ass fisted? How changed would he be if he explored this lifestyle unbidden and then had to accept that his desires were even darker than he’d originally thought? Honestly, what would a discovery like that mean for his life in the future and his choice of lovers?

These were big questions. Contemplating them seemed to be returning unwanted tension to his body, so Dean reminded himself that he was just here as a spectator. Willing his body to relax, Dean ordered a fourth drink. As he sipped it, he began to let his eyes wander around the room. 

To his surprise, no one was watching him. Realizing this, he further relaxed. He even chuckled when he realized why. Unlike most everyone here, who had either come with someone or was trying to meet someone, Dean was alone. He was alone, fully clothed, and likely emitting body language that marked him as unapproachable. 

Making a conscious effort to open himself up, Dean uncrossed his arms from in front of his body and put his back to the bar, resting one elbow on it as he went on sipping his drink.

To his left was an older couple, fully dressed as dom and sub. They were just talking, both relaxed. Beyond them was a lone character, perched on a stool. He would have looked like any other business man sitting at happy hour if it weren’t for the mask he wore. 

On his right side sat a man in full leathers and dark eyeliner. Beyond him was another man wearing all black and holding a crop of some sort. Kneeling at this man’s feet was a beautiful woman with jet black hair and blood red lips. She was very attractive, voluptuous and sexy, her ample bosoms barely contained in a red corset. 

Looking closer, Dean realized that her chest was heaving. She was breathing heavily and the expression on her face reflected desperation. The man above her was quite calm in comparison and Dean watched in fascination as he slowly and tauntingly moved the crop. Her eyes followed it like there was nothing else in the room. As the crop drew nearer, her heavy breathing turned to panting and Dean found his own body growing expectant as he watched, knowing something exciting was about to happen.

Both the kneeling woman and her dom were completely immersed in what was happening between them, appearing unaware of Dean’s eyes on them, or anyone else’s. The tip of the crop came to rest on the underside of her chin. She gulped in a breath, obviously trying to stay still, but her body was practically quivering with excitement. Dean was enthralled. The man slid his crop downward, dragging the leather across her jawline, down her neck, and then straight into the deep line of her cleavage. 

Then, so fast that Dean’s eyes almost missed the movement entirely, the man snapped the tip of the crop on her breast, several times in quick succession. The point of impact seemed to be right where her nipple likely hid, tucked away inside of her corset. Initially, she startled at the action. But then, she pushed her chest out as if silently asking for more. Dean watched her waiting there silently, hungrily, anticipating what would come next. 

Others were watching too, Dean realized, as the dom put his sub through her paces. By the time Dean had emptied his glass, she was turned face down and ass up, her skirt haphazardly thrown up to expose her bare cheeks with the thin black line of a thong running between them. Those watching seemed to gasp along with Dean each time the crop fell on one cheek or the other, turning her skin pink and bringing tears to her eyes. 

If he hadn’t been paying such close attention to this couple, he might’ve felt this woman was being mistreated. But, having been so interested in their dynamic and immersed in what was happening, Dean saw the scene for what it was… a man who knew this woman well, pushing her to her limits. She was into it, without a doubt. The way she arched her back gave away her desire - even pink cheeked and crying, she still wanted more.

Turning back around to order another drink, Dean again caught sight of the masked man. He’d removed his suit coat now and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. He looked far more casual like that, especially with his tie loosened. But, his posture was no more relaxed than it had been when Dean first noticed him. As he waited for his drink, Dean couldn’t help but watch the man. There was just something about him. Perhaps it was his demeanor, but more likely it was the mask. At a glance, the disguise looked like a Zorro mask. However, as Dean looked more intently, he noticed that it covered a lot of the man’s face, wrapping down over his cheeks and nose to leave only his lips and chin exposed. This wasn’t a plastic mask on an elastic string, but rather a cloth that had been artfully tied at the back of the head, concealing the man’s hairline and haircolor almost completely. A bit of dark hair showed in the back, just above the neck, indicating that his hair was probably either dark brown or black. 

Intently focused, Dean saw the man signal the bartender and have a short conversation with him. Suddenly, he realized what was so intriguing about the hooded man. It was the hands. Just like the skilled hands in the Dr. Cum Control videos, this man’s were smooth and purposeful. If it was possible for hands to be considered thoughtful, then these were.

As he ruminated on the similarities between this man’s hands and those of ‘The Doctor’, Dean had to wonder if hands like that were just the byproduct of being a Dom. Maybe putting so much focus on what one was doing with their hands was a recipe for creating hands that worked more gracefully than those of the average Joe.  

Tearing him from his contemplations, the bartender stepped up to Dean and delivered him another drink. “Compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar,” he told Dean. 

Immediately, the bubble of imagined anonymity burst and Dean remembered that he wasn’t just a fly on the wall here. He was visible to those around him, and he’d been staring at the masked man long enough to have seemed interested. Shivering at the thought, Dean felt his face start to heat up, a ferocious blush no doubt coloring his cheeks. For a beat Dean wished he was the one with a mask on. 

Not wanting to be rude, he looked over at the man and nodded a thank you, sipping the drink as he looked away, hoping that would be the end of the exchange. He was just beginning to feel comfortable as an observer… still a long way from being ready to meet someone, let alone be picked-up. Thankfully, the mystery man didn’t push things. He seemed to sense Dean’s inability to do more than graciously accept. He didn’t make his way over to Dean, which would have been perfectly normal in this situation. 

A sharp sound followed by a collective intake of breath by many people interrupted Dean’s train of thought and stole his attention. Following the sound, Dean once again found himself watching the woman on the floor. He’d missed a lot, it would seem. 

While his back had been turned, the woman’s thong had been pulled down around her thighs. Her face was no longer visible behind a curtain of dark hair, and her arms were stretched out behind her. She was literally holding her ass cheeks, spreading them apart and offering a clear and unobstructed view of her bright pink pucker. Her Dom, still standing over her, was tickling her hole with the tip of his crop. Dean watched in fascination as it clenched and twitched at the stimulation and the suspense. A moment later, that tip snapped forward over the hole, striking it dead center. A loud cry burst from the woman and, once again, all those watching inhaled simultaneously. Dean felt a pulse of electricity shoot down into his groin just from watching. Next, the man bent to one knee and kissed her, deeply and with his tongue, right where he’d struck her. After, he got back to his feet, pulling his lady with him. Applause broke out, cheering, and then the crowd that had gathered to watch slowly dispersed. 

Dean turned back around to face the bar, and when he did, he noticed that the masked man was now sitting closer. Only three stools separated them. Looking at him, it was obvious that he knew Dean was keenly aware of his presence. Whether to seem aloof, or to seem non-threatening, the man kept his eyes averted. Dean was utterly fascinated. Testing the waters, he took his glass with him and stepped down a bit, sliding up onto a barstool for the first time and leaving only one empty seat between himself and the stranger. 

As the bartender walked past, Dean saw the masked man signal him for another round and a moment later, Dean’s nearly empty glass was replaced with a full one. Starting to feel dizzy from so many drinks in such a short time, Dean ordered a water as well. He didn’t look at the masked man’s face, preferring to watch his hands as they toyed with the glass tumbler, rolling it between palms, tracing fingers over the rim, even lifting the vessel artfully to his mouth. 

A new couple slid into the chairs on Dean’s right side, almost crowding him, but Dean didn’t change seats. He did, however, turn his body toward the object of his scrutiny, hoping the man would read this as a sign that he was ready to talk. Because he was. 

As if Dean’s signals were the equivalent of spoken words, the mystery man slid over into the empty stool and eliminated the last of the space between them. Keeping his eyes and body forward, the man tilted his head towards Dean but made no further attempt to engage him. It took a few minutes of sitting in companionable silence before Dean actually found both the will and ability to speak. When he did, he said, “Thanks for the drinks.”

The man nodded, eyes still gazing forward rather than fixing on him. “Is this your first time here?”

“Second. But last time, I had a friend with me.”

“What do you think so far?”

“It’s… it’s…

“Overwhelming?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Clarence ,” said the man, not asking for a name in return.

“Dean,” he supplied anyway, extending his hand as if to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dean. It’s brave of you to come.”

“Brave?”

“Yes. It’s not easy to step out of one’s comfort zone. What brought you here tonight?”

Dean decided to just be honest. “Curiosity.”

“And what were you most curious about?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I mean, I thought I knew all about BDSM. Turns out, I really don’t.”

“But it intrigues you.” It wasn’t a question. Dean nodded agreement. “Have you considered participation?”

“Well,” he chuckled self-consciously, “I guess I have, but I - I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

“I would agree,” smiled his new friend. “But if you’re curious, I may have a suggestion.” 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Would you like to play a little game with me? Have a gentle introduction?”

“Maybe,” he answered, probably too quickly. “What kind of game would we play?”

“The kind that involves no nudity and no physical or emotional pain.”

“That sounds safer than the average drinking game,” he mused. “So, yeah, I’d have to say I’m in.”

“Good. You should be proud of yourself for trying something new and taking a risk.”

Dean nodded, uncertain how to process the compliment. “What do I do first?”

“Would you like to try being submissive?”

“What made you assume that?”

“You were watching a scene over there,” Clarence reminded him.

“And?”

“You weren’t watching the Dom. It was the Sub that you couldn’t take your eyes off of.”

“How do you know I wasn’t just watching the girl because I like women?”

“Call it intuition if you’d like, but if I were a betting man, I’d put money on you having had relationships with more than one gender.”

“You’re pretty perceptive,” admitted Dean, still watching the man’s hands more than anything else.  

“Do you have a safeword Dean?”

“Never needed one before.”

“You need one now. Besides, I have a feeling you were thinking of that very thing as you drove here tonight.”

Dean burst out laughing, setting his glass down on the counter and wiping moisture from the corner of his eye. “Damn,” he admitted, “you’re good.”

Beside him, watching him attentively now, Clarence just waited. 

“I like Impala,” he said finally, “but I honestly think the green-yellow-red thing is more practical.”

“That’s good, Dean. Are you ready to begin?”

Having temporarily lost his power of speech, Dean tossed back the rest of his drink and gave a firm nod.”

“I need you to say ‘Yes,’ Dean.”

Clearing his throat, Dean said, “Yes.”

“Very good. Now, please bend down and tie your boot. It’s been been bothering me since you walked in here.”

Feeling a warm smile settle over his lips, Dean bent to one knee and did as he was told. 

“Stay down there,” said Clearance firmly as Dean finished with his laces. Looking up at the man, Dean began to wonder if there wasn’t something vaguely familiar about his voice. 

“What do you think of the view from down there?” 

“Um…”

“This is not an arbitrary question, Dean. Look around. Look at me. Do you like how things look from your knees?”

Doing as instructed, Dean took the time to look around from this vantage. Everyone looked so tall from down here, especially his… his Dom? Was this man his Dom? Even thinking the word sent a shiver of pleasure snaking up his spine. Another look up at the masked man and Dean found that he didn’t just look taller from down here, he looked larger than life. He embodied the word ‘master’ from his squared shoulders to his raised chin, and the calm but forceful demeanor he exhibited made Dean feel eager to obey. “Yeah,” he admitted, “I like it.”  

“Good. Show me you like it.”

Opening his mouth to request clarification, Dean saw the slight shift in his Dom’s posture and changed his mind. He could tell that he was meant to think this through, not ask for an easy answer. So, he thought for a moment about how best to show that he liked kneeling. 

He smiled when the answer came to him, startling in it’s simplicity. He was still perched on one knee from having done up the laces on his boot. But now, to show his Dom that he liked kneeling for him, Dean adjusted himself to put both knees on the floor. Now, there would be no question by any onlooker. No one would mistake this posture for something so mundane as tying a shoe. He was  _ fully _ kneeling. Moreover, he was happy to be doing so, and found that he didn’t care who saw. In fact, he wanted people to see. Almost embarassed to be this desperate for approval, Dean looked up cautiously towards his Dom.

“Good, Dean, very good. You are going to make a wonderful Sub for someone.”

Dean felt a surge of pride at the words, but also a hint of disappointment that Clarence had said ‘for someone’ and not ‘for me’. But still, there was a sense of completeness at finding his place and liking it there. Already, he was hoping Clarence would give him another order. He waited for a while but his temporary Dom said nothing further, merely looked straight over Dean’s head, taking in the clubgoers around them as he sipped his drink. 

With eyes locked on the man’s exposed throat, Dean couldn’t help but lick his lips as he watched him swallow. Another minute or two ticked by and then Clarence set his glass down on the counter and picked up Dean’s water. Looking Dean straight in the eye, his Dom lowered the glass to him and tipped it to his lips, offering him a cool drink. He hadn’t realized how sticky his mouth had become from glass after glass of whiskey, but the water was quite refreshing. Clearance gave him a few more sips before returning the tumbler to the bar. Then, he cupped Dean’s cheek and slid his hand into Dean’s hair, stroking his scalp with long and nimble fingers. It felt incredible.

“Stand up, Dean.”

Hustling to his feet, Dean waited for the next command. 

“Dean, what is your favorite food?”

Regarding his Dom carefully, wanting to be honest, he tried to narrow it down. “It’s hard to pick a favorite,” he answered. “But, I guess, probably pie.”

“And what is your favorite sexual position?”

“M’not sure,” he replied, “I honestly don’t have that much experience with men.”

“Well then, what position would you most like to try?”

Without hesitation he answered, “The bottom, Sir.”

“The top is not to your liking?”

“It’s all to my liking, Sir.”

“I never told you to call me sir.”

“Can I call you sir?”

The man answered in the affirmative and then, there it was again, that soft smile, just a flicker and then gone. Dean smiled too, feeling a warmth grow between them.

“Dean, what are you most afraid of?”

“My father.”   _ Wait - why did I answer that? _

“Is your father the reason that you don’t have much experience with men?”

“Yeah,” he answered honestly.

“Dean, would you like to experience something sexual with me?”

“Oh yeah,” he grinned eagerly.

“Would you like to amend our previous agreement to include a little bit of nudity in our play?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. But first you must show me that you want it. Do what I ask, and something sexual will be your reward.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Dean, lift your shirt and show me your stomach. Don’t suck it in or pose in any way. If you do, you will have disobeyed.”

Dean could feel it when his jaw dropped. He was absolutely stunned. Though, he probably shouldn’t have been. This man had shown himself to be incredibly perceptive regarding Dean and while they’d been talking tonight, the man had been focused on Dean like he was a school project. Of course he’d pick up on the biggest weakness Dean had regarding his physical body. Strangely enough, he didn’t find himself feeling angry or irritated or even unsettled. Actually, he still had an overwhelming urge to please this man. So, he followed instructions. Trying to ignore those who were watching, he pulled up his shirt and let himself be seen. No posturing, no nothing. 

To his surprise and delight, Clarence leaned forward in his chair and pressed his lips to Dean’s belly. The kiss was warm and gentle, just an inch from his navel. Then, the tickle of lips ghosted over his skin as words were whispered into it. Dean couldn’t make out what was said, but he loved the feeling of acceptance that came from having displayed what he considered to be his worst physical attribute, only to have affection poured over it.

“Good boy,” whispered Clarence as he was pulling away. “Now, get back on your knees.”

Dean immediately dropped back to the ground, looking up expectantly at the new master of his universe. To his surprise, Dean saw the man stand up from his chair. He crowded into Dean’s space until he was towering over him. Then, he began slowly unbuckling his belt. 

From his knees, Dean watched with his mouth watering as the man’s fluid movements made a spectacular show of undoing the button, pulling down the zipper, spreading the fabric and pulling his cock out. It was at this moment that Dean realized how quiet the bar was around them. People were watching them and waiting to see what would happen next, he was certain of it. Despite the awareness of his audience, Dean didn’t dare look away from his Dom to see it. He hadn’t even realized it was happening, but somehow their little game had become a scene. A very public scene. 

Suddenly, he was hard as a rock in his pants. Or, perhaps he’d been that way for some time and simply hadn’t noticed because he’d been so focused on his Dom. But, looming into his field of vision now, was a very handsome cock and he could hear his Dom whispering, “I want you to kiss me Dean. Kiss me here,” he said firmly, holding his dick up to Dean’s face.

Since he’d set eyes on this man, Dean had marveled at how his hands had embodied the same grace and fluidity of movement as his favorite edging superstar. He’d been focused on those hands all night, and now here they were holding a delicious dick for him, inviting him to put his lips on it. As he leaned in, Dean looked closely, taking the time to notice the details of that magnificent cock and the hands that held it. He noticed the dick starting to chubb up between long fingers, the curve of the crown soft and pink. Dean noted the way the middle and ring finger seemed to always stay together even when the other fingers splayed out, the curve of the fingernails, and the way that thumb bent as it circled the tip. As these minute details sank in, something clicked into place: recognition. 

Reality seemed to slow down for a moment, slurring like a video in slow motion before suddenly snapping forward again to catch up with itself. Fuck. He knew those hands and he knew them well. They weren’t just similar to the hands of Dr. Cum Control, they  _ were _ the hands of Dr. Cum Control. In the midst of this revelation, Dean remembered that the man’s voice had been vaguely familiar as well. And now that he’d made the connection to Dr. Cum Control, Dean easily placed the man’s voice as that of Jimmy’s brother, Cas. Castiel. Ho-ly fuck. What were the odds?

Cas noticed Dean’s reaction, of course he did, but he seemed to misread the surprise and recognition as uncertainty and hesitation. Cas, no - wait,  _ Clarence,  _ cupped his hand around Dean’s jaw with a firm but gentle energy. He then said, “Dean, I can see that you’re uneasy. You may call yellow if you’d like to slow down, or you can safeword. But unless you do, my order stands. Kiss it for me Dean, right on the tip.”

Kneeling before the embodiment of so many fantasies, Dean was unable to hold back. He dipped his head in and opened his mouth over the bulbous tip of Cas’ swollen cock. Fervently he sealed his lips over the crown and let his eyes fall shut to savor the moment. He used his tongue as if he were french kissing, and kiss he did… hungrily. 

Breathing in the scent of musky skin, a virile scent that Dean had loved for as long as he could remember, he lost track of time and place, thinking only of his triumph in this moment, rolling his tongue over the soft skin and hard flesh of his Dom’s thick dick. He’d remember this moment every time he jerked off for the rest of his life. Hopefully, so would Dr. Cum Control.

When he felt Cas’s fingers grip tightly in his hair, Dean opened his eyes and looked up, mouth still wrapped around the best dick he’d ever tasted. 

“Good boy,” purred Cas from behind his mask, “Such a good boy.” Dean was proud of the praise he’d earned. But, to look up at the man now, he couldn’t believe that it had taken him so long to make the connection. That this man was Dr. Castiel Novak was almost painfully obvious now. 

“You’re finished,” said his Dom. Then, more firmly, “Dean, you’re finished. Sit back.”

He’d not realized that his arms had wound tightly around Cas’ thighs while he’d been ‘kissing’, but it wasn’t easy to let go. When he did, sitting back on his heels, he received more praise and a soft brush of fingers over his wet lips.

“Come sit and have a drink with me Dean,” invited Cas softly as he tucked himself back into his trousers. “Our game is over.”

Disappointed to be finished, but glad to be allowed to stay in the man’s company, Dean struggled to make himself comfortable in his jeans as he settled onto the barstool with a raging hard-on. 

Jittery with adrenaline and testosterone, Dean reached for his water and tried to calm himself. He wanted to find some way of thanking Cas for the scene, but words were failing him. Despite buzzing hard from the drinks and from the doting attention he’d received during the scene, Dean found himself still wanting more. So much more.

“How are you feeling?” asked  _ Clarence _ .

“Good,” answered Dean, finding the will to look his hooded friend in the face. “I’m really, really good.”

“As am I.”

“I want more,” he said, again choosing honesty.

“I know you do. But that was enough for tonight. And as I’ve said, I believe you will make an incredible Sub. But, Dean, you must remember to choose your Dom wisely. He or she will either fulfill you or ruin you. This isn’t something to be taken lightly.”

Dean felt a flood of sadness wash over him at the thought of having anyone other than Cas become his Dom. But, if the man was interested in being that person for Dean, he would be saying so right now - and he wasn’t. Cas didn’t want him. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Cas, no - Clarence. 

“Nothing.”

“You’ve been honest with me so far. What’s changed? Why are you lying to me now?”

“Like it matters,” he mumbled, returning to honesty. “You don’t want me.”

“That’s what you think? After that amazing scene, you really think I don’t want you?”

Dean was stunned to find himself blinking back tears. He choked them down and focused his eyes on the opposite wall, steeling himself against all the emotions that were suddenly pressing in on him.

In his peripheral vision, Dean saw Cas slide closer and then he felt the weight of an arm wrapping around his shoulders to pull him close. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how much he needed a hug. 

“You’re coming back to yourself,” explained Clarence. “You were lost in the scene, and now you’re coming back to reality. It can be jarring. But remember Dean, you didn’t come here looking for a Dom tonight. You came here because you were curious. You wanted to learn something about this kind of sexual expression, and now you have. You’ve probably learned a few things about yourself too.”

Yes. He had. Nodding agreement was the only thing he could manage for now because all his energy was still focused on keeping his composure. Into his ear, Cas whispered, “May I kiss you, Dean?”

Too choked up to answer, he managed to at least nod once in response and turn his face towards the masked man. He barely saw the disguise anymore. What he saw were the eyes… the lips… the tilt of his head. Relaxing into their connection, Dean waited with his eyes closed for the meeting of their mouths. When it came, gentle and reassuring, he opened to it immediately, welcoming the man’s tongue and sliding his own alongside it. They deepened their kiss right away, tipping heads to adjust to one another and further seal their lips together. 

“Mmm” hummed Cas when he pulled away, leaving Dean’s mouth open and wet and panting. “You are incredible, Dean.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but all he could manage to croak out was, “No. You.”

“Tell me, Dean, do you like orange juice?”

“I suppose,” he answered tentatively as he watched Dr. Cum Control lean forward and signal the bartender. Gesturing towards Dean, the doctor ordered an orange juice. 

“Make it a screwdriver,” Dean told the bartender with a chuckle. Cas laughed along with him and they settled back onto their barstools. 

Dean hadn’t realized that he’d been chewing his lip until Cas said, “You’ve got a pretty healthy oral fixation, don’t you. Tell me, do you chew the ends of your pens?”

Chuckling, Dean nodded. “Sure do. I also love to suck on popsicle sticks, chew straws, and smoke cigarettes. Oh, and I fuckin’ love to -

“You love to give head,” smiled Cas knowingly.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I waited way too long to try it.”

“Because of your father.”

“Yeah.”

“What about your mother?”

“She died when I was young; in a housefire,” said Dean softly. It didn’t matter how many times he’d said the words, or how many years had passed since that night. The tender spot was still there and it hurt to even think of his loss.

“You were there when it happened,” said Cas gently. If it was a guess, it was a good one.

“I was. But, I don’t really remember much of it. I mostly remember the smell… and seeing my dad lose his shit. I remember holding my brother; he was just a baby then. And, well, I still remember the EMS guy. He was amazing.”

“Tell me about your brother.”

“He’s all grown up now,” beamed Dean, unable to contain his pride. “He’s gone off to college… Ivy League… lives in California.” Dean felt better the moment the subject was changed and he smiled widely as he spent a few minutes telling Cas all about Sam.

“You were instrumental in his life weren’t you? A role model, perhaps more?”

“Well, somebody had to take care of that little shit,” laughed Dean, reaching for his drink when it was set in front of him. “My old man was fuckin’ worthless. So, yeah, I did my best.”

“It sounds like you’ve done a wonderful job with him,” smiled Cas. Again, Dean found that he hardly noticed the doctor’s headcover anymore. Dean just looked right past it.

Suddenly struck by a thought, Dean popped off a question before he could help himself. “Did anyone clap? Ya know, for us, when we finished?”

“Yes, Dean,” he answered warmly. “They clapped for us.” 

Strange. He hadn’t even heard it. He’d been so caught up in the moment that this was the first he’d even remembered that they’d had an audience.

The men chatted for a while longer, seated comfortably at the bar. It wasn’t easy to keep the conversation going without asking any questions of Cas. But, asking any questions about family or work or even life in general seemed so despicable and manipulative considering Dean already knew the answers to most of those questions. 

Parents? Yeah. Chuck and somebody… Dean couldn’t recall her name at the moment. They were still married, living somewhere on the east coast. That’s where Jimmy (and presumably Cas) went home for the holidays every year. Siblings? Yeah. One twin brother, Jim, who worked with Dean at Bernardi’s. Career? Um, yeah. The man was a doctor at the Orthopedics clinic in Pontiac. Hobbies? Fuck yeah: making the porn videos that Dean has grown addicted to. Seriously. What was left to ask? Favorite color? Favorite cut of meat?

Mostly, Dean kept his questions confined to the BDSM lifestyle in general, but he did ask a few specific questions of Cas, all of which were answered; though a bit cryptically. Dean’s stiff prick had gone soft shortly after their scene, but he wasn’t done. His body was aching for more. It was so very hard to say goodbye when Castiel got up to leave. Dean had to restrain himself to keep from following the man to his car like a stray dog. 

Once Cas was gone, so was Dean’s desire to be there. He had one more drink and took a final look around, but he didn’t linger. The art on the walls, the fireplace, it all looked the same as it had last time he was here. But this visit had been so very different from his last. 

As he drove back to Pontiac Dean left the radio off and listened only to the white noise of his tires on the highway as he replayed the evening’s events in his mind over and over. Slowly, he began to realize how brave he’d been tonight. He’d done a scene... in front of people. He’d exposed a part of himself that he felt very private about. Hell, it would’ve been easier to show his dick to a room full of people than it had been to show them his tummy. The difference between how he’d felt this time and last time boiled down to one thing. Cas. Even before Dean had realized who this masked man was, the man’s confidence and surety had brought out the best in Dean. 

The moment he was home, Dean bolted to his room and turned on the computer. Pulling up Cas’s website, he clicked to play a video and let the sounds of pleasure fill his room. Having been so worked up and then left without release, he assumed he’d find his end quickly. But, he was wrong. 

Dying to blow his load, Dean worked himself over roughly, stretching his rim with three fingers while jacking himself so hard that his arm was burning and sore. Dropping his head to the pillow, Dean gave up momentarily and took a deep breath. 

He needed something more - something to push him over the edge. As he considered some things he could do to enhance his pleasure, his mind flicked over to his time with the doctor. Remembering his admission that he’d like to bottom, Dean considered a dildo. Sadly, he didn’t have one. Was that weird? Oh well, he’d buy one soon. But for now, tonight, what could he do to finally get off? 

A smile leapt to his face as a salacious idea popped into his head. He could record himself jerking off to a Dr. Cum Control video and send it to The Doctor. Considering this, he had to acknowledge that it was a bad idea for more than one reason. Returning to his previous thoughts about using a dildo, Dean’s mind started churning. There had to be something around his apartment that he could use instead, right? Something the right size and shape that he could use to try and simulate the feeling of a cock? Lying there for a moment, Dean tried to decide what to do next.

  
  


**What should Dean do?**

Search his apartment for something he can penetrate himself with (go to chapter 20)

Record himself as he jerks off to his favorite video (go to chapter 21)


	13. Thirteen

 

The day was good. Solitary, but good. When he returned to his apartment that evening, Dean pushed a heavy styrofoam container of leftover barbeque into the fridge. He also tucked three new toys away in his nightstand, one of which was ambitiously large for a first time dildo owner, he thought. But, it’s striking resemblance to Castiel’s size and shape had been far too tempting to pass up. 

Dean found himself glowing for a few days after his interactions with Cas at the club and now, each time he watches Dr. Cum Control, he’s even more exhilarated. He arches his back eagerly and uses his own fingers, bathed in Astroglide, to work himself open enough to start working in a cock. It may be silicone, but Dean tries not to think about that. He does his best to imagine himself impaled onto the thick dick of the one he covets, the one he’d been lucky enough to put his lips on, and he takes it. Takes it like a good boy. He clenches his eyes shut and whispers ‘Sir’ as he feels himself spread wider, Castiel’s face hovering behind his eyelids. It’s easier to imagine that his fantasy man is really with him, now that he’s been on his knees for Cas in real life. He keenly remembers the sound of his voice, the feel of his hands, the weight of his stare. 

When he’s fully mounted, Dean always rolls over onto his back. The mattress beneath his cheeks keeps the toy dick deeply seated. With pillows behind his head, Dean can watch what happens on-screen and stroke himself in time with Dr. Cum Control’s artful hands. He tries, oh how he tries, to only touch himself when Cas is touching his Sub. But his restraint is always short lived. He rocks on silicone, feeling it move inside him as he grips his own member tightly and calls out for Cas while he chases his climax.

When it’s over, Dean slumps to the side in the fetal position and lets his toy slowly slide out. Once, he even fell asleep like that. 

All in all, Dean has found himself to be quite satisfied with life these days. He liked his work, his friends, and his place. He did wish that some parts of his life were different, though. It would be nice if he lived closer to his brother. It would also be nice to have a relationship with his father, one worth having anyway. He’d love it if there were warm, fuzzy holidays to look forward to… especially now that the seasons were changing. It would be so wonderful if he and Sam could go home for the holidays, both of them stomping snow off their boots as they carried in armloads of presents and greeted relatives they hadn’tt seen in ages. But that would never really happen. First of all, there would always be a gaping hole where their mother should be. And since John Winchester had alienated himself and his boys from just about every known relative, the only holiday they’d ever really have would be the three of them. Scratch that. The four of them. Himself, his baby brother, his father, and his father’s bottle. 

But, aside from holidays that were doomed to be either lonely, shitty, or incomplete, Dean found that his life was good. He’d made himself a home here in Pontiac and he was content.

With his mind having turned to the holidays, Dean called Sam. They spent a few minutes catching up, but Dean didn’t say much. When his brother asked about ‘the guy’, Dean said that they’d been out once. He didn’t bother giving the details, which would include a kinky sex club and an introduction to dom/sub play by a man whose identity Dean wasn’t even intended to know.  

But, as the brothers caught up, Dean found the courage to inquire about Sam’s plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Sam said he had no intentions of visiting their father, but when Dean threw out an off-handed and ill-thought-out invitation to Pontiac, he was stunned to hear Sammy pause, take a deep breath, and answer, “Yeah, Dean, I’d like that.”

“I-I didn’t expect you to say yes,” Dean stammered.

“Well, I’ll have to see,” replied Sam. “I mean, I don’t even know how much a plane ticket would be. But I’d love to see your new place and meet your friends and stuff. Besides, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I really miss you Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he tutted, “so, I guess, just check into things and let me know. If you wind up short for the ticket, just let me know. Maybe I can cover the difference.”

“Okay,” said Sam softly. “Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss you.”

“Aw, c’mon Sammy,” he fumbled, using his best ‘man’ voice to try and cover up the thickness in his throat. He was aching in his chest for a hug from his brother… the kind that the kid used to give him despite his protests. “A trip back here in December will cure that real quick. Shoveling snow, slippin’ around the ice, freezing your twig and berries off…”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah. I miss you too.”

“Call again soon.”

“Yep. Bye Sammy.”

“Bye Dean.”

As soon as he hung up, Dean grabbed his keys and headed out. He wasn’t going to sit around and let the ache inside of him morph into despair. From the sound of things - he’d be seeing Sam soon enough. He just needed to get his mind on other things, and that wasn’t going to happen with him sitting home alone. So, from the bar, he texted his friends to see if anyone felt like joining him. 

Jimmy said he was up for a few beers and would be there soon. As he waited, Dean had a few drinks and pondered his brother and father. When he’d spoken with Sam, he hadn’t used the word ‘happy’ to describe himself. He knew it was because he just wasn’t there yet. He was satisfied; content. But, not really happy. Yet. However, as he sipped his drink, he thought that he  _ could  _ be happy, if he had someone in his life. 

It was as he considered this that Dean began to realize that he was ready for a partner - someone to love that loved him back, someone to hold and be held by as he fell asleep. Hell, he even thinks he might enjoy having someone around to oversee his pie intake; someone who loved him enough to insist he eat healthier, like Sam had always done. 

“Dude,” said Jim flatly when he slid onto the barstool next to Dean. “Who pissed in your cheerios?”

Dean chuckled and motioned to the bar tender. “First one’s on me.”

“How many ahead are ya?”

“Just a couple,” smiled Dean as Jimmy’s drink was poured.

“I should be honest Dean, I’m not so good at the cheering up. Maybe you should’ve invited one of the girls out if you needed a shoulder to cry on.”

“Nobody’s cryin’, fucker. I just needed a pick-me-up,” huffed Dean as Jimmy tipped back his drink. 

Jim set his glass down heavily and snapped his fingers, a sly smile sliding into place on his face. “Oh yeah?” he said, “I think I might actually have somethin’ that’ll do the trick.”

“What?”

“A party. A big one.”

“That works. For a second there, I thought you were gonna invite me to a strip club.”

“Some other time,” Jimmy placated, sitting up straighter before going on to say, “My birthday’s comin’ up and my brother and I have decided to throw a kick ass party.”

Dean smiled for a second and then said, “Wait. How would that even work? All his stuffy doctor friends come over for wine and cheese while your friends come over and tap a keg?”

“Somethin’ like that,” laughed Jimmy. “Last time we did a joint party it was a blast. Most of the older docs came and went before the sunset. But some of them surprised me… I’m pretty sure there were a few doin’ blow in the bathroom. And let me tell ya… the nurses at their clinic know how to party. You should come. You’ll have a blast.”

Dean immediately wanted to go, if for no other reason than to see Castiel. But he hesitated as he pictured it happening in his mind. He knew it was probably best to just be honest. So he didn’t bother making up an excuse to miss the party of the year. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he told his friend. “I really doubt your brother would want me there. Besides, I can’t seem to chew gum and walk straight around him anyway. It can’t end well.”

Jimmy’s smile grew wider as Dean spoke and when he’d finished, his friend replied by saying, “You have to come. Even if Cas didn’t want you there, he’d still be cool about it. But he does want you there… he actually mentioned you. He practically insisted that I invite you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nope.”

“He said my name? He said to invite Dean Winchester?”

“Well, not exactly,” admitted Jimmy. The man’s more humble, shy smile slid into place as he said, “Actually, he said I should invite the guy with the tummy who blushes easy.”

 

**Go to chapter 14**

 


	14. Fourteen

“The one with the tummy?” Dean’s heart dropped down into his stomach. “Man,” he sighed, “I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. That’s just pathetic.”

Jimmy seemed to sense Dean’s humiliation in that moment. He smiled kindly and said, “C’mon Dean, he told me specifically to make sure you were invited. Who cares how he said it?”

“Whatever,” Dean replied, tipping back the last of his drink. He thumped his glass down heavily, letting the sound catch the eye of the bartender. He didn’t look at the man as his next drink was poured for him because a heavy feeling of depression was settling over him. But then, Dean suddenly remembered the way Castiel had kissed his tummy at the club. In light of that memory, ‘the one with the tummy’ didn’t seem quite so insulting. In fact, his entire body was now warming as he thought of their interactions that night and of how much he’d enjoyed being the center of Cas’s attention.

Dean took a long pull of whiskey and when he set his drink down again, he looked over at Jimmy and said, “Alright. I’m in.”

That following week, Dean put in a request for time off from the restaurant in hopes of not being scheduled to work on the night of Jimmy’s big party. But, when the schedule was posted, his name was there. Apparently everyone else had put in a request too. So, as one of the least senior of the staff, Dean was stuck working. He, Jo Harvelle and a few others wound up closing that night and afterwards they all caravanned over to Jim and Cas’s place. When they arrived, the party was already in full swing. Jimmy hadn’t been kidding - the party was epic.

As he and Jo entered together, Dean noticed that there was quite an eclectic mix of people in attendance. Some guests were smartly dressed and sipping champagne or wine while they mingled. Others were dressed more casually. Many were drinking beer from bottles or plastic cups and almost everyone was carrying around little plates of food. As he and Jo wove through the living room and towards the kitchen, Dean was checking out the snack foods being carted around on little disposable cocktail plates.

“I’m gonna tear up those baby sausages,” he told her.

“I want cake,” she replied with an eyebrow waggle. “That looks awesome.”

Dean followed her gaze to the opposite wall where a huge, multi-tiered birthday cake was sitting on it’s own table. It was bigger than most of the wedding cakes Dean had seen in his life. “Dude, that thing is huge!” he marveled.

Both stopped to admire it as they passed by and as Dean looked it over, he thought it was almost too perfect. The lines of it were just a bit too sharp, as though it was a model from a store window and not real all.

“Winchester!” called Jimmy from the kitchen. “It’s about fuckin’ time. Come have a drink with me!”

Dean moved to join his friend, reaching to pull Jo along with him as he did. She, however, was being pulled into a hug by a group of noisy young women. He let go of her wrist and gave her a playful swat on the backside as the two stepped apart, her to join a group of bawdy girls he didn’t recognize and him to join Jimmy in the kitchen.

“I guess I’ve got some catchin’ up to do,” said Dean as he stepped up to his friend and took the shot glass he was being offered.

“Damn straight.”

“To the birthday boy,” proclaimed Dean as he clinked his shooter against Jim’s. They both tossed them back before dipping in for a quick, one-armed bro hug. “That was damned good,” he added, “what the hell did we just drink?”

“Birthday Cake vodka.”

“Ima need to do another one of those,” he grinned, pivoting with Jimmy towards the breakfast bar which was currently serving as an actual bar. There was a huge tray of multicolored Jello shots sitting out next to a punch bowl of something delicious looking with sherbet melting in it. Next to that were dozens of bottles and though there were two men ‘bartending’, it appeared that most guests were just helping themselves.

When Jimmy pulled a bottle from the counter, Dean held out his empty glass. Once his friend had refilled them both, they clinked again and downed the syrupy sweet liquid. It burned going down, as it should, but in it’s wake was the distinct flavor of vanilla frosting.

“Whatdaya think Winchester?” Jim prodded, still holding the bottle by it’s neck as he gestured to the party around them.

“S’good,” nodded Dean. “Damn good. But you didn’t need to wait for me just to cut the cake.”

Picking up on his joke, Jim huffed a laugh as he turned away to exchange the bottle of decadent vodka for something else.

“Actually,” replied Jim, turning back to Dean with a bottle of beer in each hand, “We’re waiting for Naomi to leave before we tear into that. That’s her over there.”

Dean followed Jimmy’s subtle gesture and his eyes landed on an auburn haired woman near the patio doors. She was stiff as a board in her grey pantsuit, smiling politely as the handful of people around her laughed and joked exuberantly.

“She’s the head of Cas’s department. He won’t loosen up til she’s gone.”

“She pretty uptight?” asked Dean.

“Oh yeah. The stick, man, it’s waaay up there.”

Dean nodded as he sipped his beer. It was crisp and refreshing after the saccharine sweetness of their shots. “She looks like she needs a good fucking,” Dean added.

“Well, if you’re up for it,” howled Jimmy, slapping Dean on the back. “But you’re gonna have to clear a lot of cobwebs first. I bet it’s been decades.”

Dean burst out laughing and just as they were stepping away from the bar area, Jo ambled up with her gaggle of noisy friends and introduced them. As she did, they all bellied up to the breakfast bar to grab Jello shots. It was impossible to remember all of their names. The only one that stuck was Channing. She had a round face with a dark complexion and almond eyes that seemed well suited to her name, which Dean liked. She left the group shortly after introductions had been made, saying she was off to find her boyfriend in the crowd. The rest of the girls in the group all looked pretty much the same… designer clothes, highlighted hair, and too much make up. Their names all sounded the same and were quite forgettable. He and Jimmy visited with them for a few minutes to be polite, but they annoyed him with their high pitched voices and shallow flirtations.

As it turned out, these were some of Jo's friends from high school. They had tagged along with Channing whose boyfriend knew Cas somehow. Dean lost himself for a moment, contemplating what Jo Harvelle had been like when she was in school, and how he liked her much better now than he would have back then. As he considered it, the party was swirling around him. He stayed with their group only long enough to watch Jimmy hit on one of Jo’s shallow friends and then excused himself. He worked his way around the room, having a good time as he visited with those he knew, met some new people, ate good food, and drank his weight in alcohol.

It was during his second trip to the bathroom that Dean reached for the doorknob and missed. That’s when he knew that he was walking a fine line between heavily buzzed and downright sloppy. At least he was loosened up enough not to be flustered around Castiel. The man looked incredible tonight, as usual. He’d clearly been wearing a custom made suit at the onset of this party. But, as the night had worn on, he’d abandoned his jacket somewhere and loosened his tie. With his sleeves rolled up and the collar of his shirt peeking open, Castiel was a walking sex bomb. His hair had likely been artfully coiffed earlier, but now it was falling over one eye and Dean loved watching the man as he repeatedly brushed it back from his face.

Those electric blue eyes were glassy with drink and his cheeks were flushed with color. Every time Cas stepped up to speak to Jimmy about something, he greeted everyone in Jimmy’s cluster smoothly and stayed to chat for a bit before being called away. This was the most time Dean had ever spent in the man’s presence and he found that he really liked this unmasked, unbuttoned version of the doctor. He was both smart and funny, evidencing a dry humor with flat delivery that Dean loved. Cas was full of one-liners and sarcasm, both delivered with a straight face that made Dean feel as though every punchline was a secret for only the two of them to share. He found himself smiling warmly at the man several times throughout the evening, unashamed because of all the liquid courage he’d imbibed. His smiles were graciously returned and in response, Dean felt his insides melt down and begin to simmer.

The later it got, the wilder the party seemed to get. The circles of civilized conversation that had dominated the scene when Dean had arrived were a distant memory now. Raucous laughter and loud storytelling had become a noisy backdrop that competed with the music, which seemed to be growing louder and louder as the clock ticked further past midnight. A cloud of smoke now hung over the open areas of the house and near the bathroom, it mixed with the pungent scent of weed.

“How did I never know this was here?” barked Dean as he followed Jimmy and his other friends out of the house and into the attached garage. There was a ping pong table out there and a wild game of beer pong was raging.

“Well, we hardly use it unless there’s a party,” explained Jimmy. Dean had already been having a great time, but his spirits soared when Castiel pushed up next to him to watch. Dean found himself laughing non-stop at Cas’s commentary on the rowdy drinking game. He didn’t even notice that Jimmy had stepped away from him, but at some point he did realize that his attention had narrowed down to tunnel vision and that Dr. Novak was at the center of it… the only presence he was really attentive to. The man’s electric blue eyes were charged with heat when he made an unmistakably flirtatious comment about the way Dean held his beer bottle to his lips for a few seconds before and after each sip.

In response to the doctor’s comment, heat spread over Dean’s cheeks. It was a strong indication that a blush was coloring his face, and he hated that his carefully cultivated facade was being ruined by this display of vulnerability. “Well,” he joked, trying to deflect, “You probably remember that I have a pretty solid oral fixation.”

Castiel’s eyes had been floating back and forth between Dean’s face and the lively game they were watching. But as Dean said those words, magnetic blues snapped to Dean’s and held there. Cas’s face registered recognition and his shoulders stiffened in that moment and as Dean watched it happen, he knew he’d blown it.

He’d said nothing about an oral fixation tonight… that admission had been made to Castiel at the BDSM club where the doctor had been disguised with a mask. That night, Dean had pretended not to know that he was speaking with Dr. Cum Control. But now, after his loose-lipped comment, Cas knew that he’d known.

Dean’s mouth dropped open in shock, but no sound came out. Next to him, Dr. Castiel Novak, a man who was fiercely protective of his secret identity, had come to realize that Dean hadn’t been fooled by his disguise at the club… but had pretended to be. Dean could actually feel the air between them change as the doctor connected the dots and realized that Dean knew absolutely everything.

In the tense moment that followed, Castiel broke their locked gaze to follow the sound of a sharp whistle which immediately cut through the boisterous activity in the garage. Turning, Dean saw that it was Jimmy who had whistled. He was standing in the doorway to the house and addressing everyone in the garage.

“I need the other birthday boy,” he declared. “It’s time to cut the cake.”

From behind Jim, a group of nurses from the clinic burst into a drunken rendition of Ding Dong the Witch Is Dead. Ah, thought Dean, Naomi must’ve finally left.

In response to this announcement, Cas politely excused himself from Dean’s side and headed into the house. The warm and fuzzy feeling of contentment that Castiel seemed to cultivate was pulled away with him as he left and Dean shuddered as his body tried to acclimate to its loss.

He watched Cas walk away with sadness. But then, hope surged through him as he saw Castiel pivot back to face him, backing away but still keeping his eyes fixed on Dean’s. Then, Cas’s face broke into a wide smile and called out over the crowd,“I’ll see you later.” Dean smiled back at him, thrilled to know that despite his epic slip up, Castiel wasn’t dismissing him. Dean was still watching the man long after he'd put the garage behind him and headed into the house.

As their hosts headed for the dining room, the horde of party-goers followed them, streaming inside and leaving the garage silent in their wake. Dean followed along, thinking how strange it was that everyone seemed so interested in cake.

He watched from the sidelines as the confection, larger than life, was wheeled out into the center of the dining room space. Open to both the kitchen and the living room, this area now held the attention of most everyone in attendance. The cake was too pretty to eat and seemed tipsy even on its large base. Dean had thought it was sitting on a table earlier, but as it rolled smoothly to a stop he could see that it was really perched on a cart. The table cloth covering it hung all the way to the floor. After it had come to a complete stop, the lights were dimmed a bit and the music cut off.

Jimmy walked up to the cake, his arm draped casually around his twin brother’s shoulder. Perhaps Dean was more drunk than he thought because even with no one touching the cake, he would swear he saw it move a few times, just a shudder, but still, the sight of it toyed with his senses.

“Thank you all for coming,” said Castiel, projecting his deep voice enough to be heard by everyone. “Jim and I are honored to have such a wonderful group of friends.” Cas then turned to his twin and said, “Happy birthday, little brother.”

With that said, a new song blared. It was brassy jazz, a familiar tune, and on the refrain, the top of the cake exploded upwards with a shower of confetti. Dean’s jaw dropped as he watched a scantily clad woman emerge from the top of the cake with a wide smile and a purposeful jiggle of her voluptuous breasts. The tune playing was one synonymous with the old-fashioned strip tease. As she was assisted in climbing out the top of the cake, Dean realized that the cake itself was made only of cardboard and frosting. As though a spotlight was trained on her, the curvaceous stripper sashayed over to the birthday boys. She danced an artful circle around them, swiveling her hips to lurid catcalls from the crowd. And then, to everyone’s delight, she bent them each over, one at a time, and proceeded to dol out salaciously sexy birthday spankings with the flat of her hand. Everyone boisterously counted along. Jimmy was laughing and carrying on. Castiel, a bit more reserved, was also laughing along as this woman put on one hell of a show.

Singles flew from the audience when she turned to them and peeled out of her corset and leather skirt, leaving herself in only a thong and pasties that hid nothing of her bountiful breasts.

Jimmy glommed on behind her, reaching around to run his hands down her sides and slide his own cash into her g-string. The crowd went wild.

“That’s it,” Dean shouted to Max, who was now standing next to him, “this is the best damn birthday party ever.”

“It get’s better every year,” agreed Dean’s boss from the restaurant. From across the room, Dean was watching Cas and he felt it all the way down to his knees when the man locked hungry eyes on him in the midst of all the action. There was just something about Castiel. The rest of the world just fell away when ‘the doctor’ looked at him.

Once the stripper had finished her show, the party began to die down. Dean soon found himself perched on a barstool and sipping a beer as the festivities waned. He watched with amusement as Jimmy enticed the stripper to his room. Then, with Castiel now the only host left, Jimmy’s friends all began to leave. Dean hadn’t had anything but beer for hours and he was just contemplating whether or not he was okay to drive when Jo meandered up to him and dropped a friendly arm around his shoulders.  

“I’m heading out,” she told him, nodding towards the group of girlfriends she’d met up with earlier. “We’re headed to grab some pancakes, you want to come with us?”

“Nah,” he replied, gesturing towards the beer in his hand, “I’m gonna finish this up and head home.”

“You okay to drive?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’m too protective of my baby to drive her when I shouldn’t.”

“Your baby?” questioned Channing, the only one of Jo’s friends whose name he could remember. 

“My car,” he explained with a wink. “She’s my baby.”

“Oh, I see.”  Just as she was getting ready to speak again, a young man pushed up beside her and looped his arm around her neck.

“How’s my girl?” he asked as he pecked her cheek.

“Good,” she said with a contented smile, then she turned back to Dean and introduced them. “Dean, this is my boyfriend Kevin. Kevin, this is Dean, a friend of Jo’s.”

Dean reached out and shook hands with the young man. Then, just as they began talking, Castiel stepped up and greeted their small cluster. During the cursory small talk that followed, Jo and her friends made their exit, saying their goodbye’s to Channing and Kevin who seemed to be staying behind. The two were lolling together affectionately and Dean smiled as he visited with them and tried not to stare at Cas too much.

When the doorbell rang, it was surprisingly loud, drawing Dean’s attention to the fact that the music had been cut off.

He watched Cas cross the empty living room and open the door to usher someone in. The newcomer was clearly not a guest of the party. He moved with purpose, a duffle of some sort in one hand and another heavy bag slung over his shoulder. Behind him, he pulled a dark plastic case that rolled on wheels. Dean stared openly as Castiel shook the man’s hand and directed him through the living room and down the hallway which Dean knew led to bedrooms. Dr. Novak then returned to them with a polite smile on his face. “Kevin,” he said, “I think we’re ready to get started.” In response, the young man nodded demurely and turned to his girl. As Dean looked on, Kevin whispered something to Channing and then kissed her deeply before stepping away and disappearing down the hall.

“Channing,” said Dr. Novak, “The guest room is yours, if you’d like to rest while you wait, I’m sure he’ll call your cell when we’re finished.”

Yeah, Dean was starting to put this together. The man who’d just arrived was a cameraman. That was his equipment he’d been carrying. Dr. Cum Control was making a video. And Kevin? Kevin was young. Trim. Asian. Probably the subject of the video.

Jealousy flared hotly and Dean felt bile rising up in the back of his throat. He wanted to puke. He’d been enjoying the attention Cas had been paying him tonight. The fact that the doctor had spent more time speaking with Dean than anyone else had not escaped his attention. In fact, he’d been growing quite hopeful that maybe something was happening between them.

But it wasn’t. He must’ve been mistaken. There was a cameraman here and a hot young man had just been sent to Cas’s room. Needing something to do with his hands, Dean began shredding the label on the nearly empty beer bottle cradled in his palm. His eyes hovered on Channing, wondering how she fit into all this. She didn’t mind her boyfriend making gay porn videos while she waited a few doors down?

“I think I’ll make a plate to take with me,” she said, eyeing the picked over food.

“Can I get you anything?” offered Cas.

“No, thank you,” she answered, bypassing the stacks of tiny paper plates in favor of pulling a full sized dinner plate from a cupboard in the kitchen with the ease of a frequent guest. Dean watched, feeling increasingly awkward as he and Castiel stood next to one another, both watching Channing as she made herself a plate of goodies, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed down the hall.

“Nice meeting you, Dean,” she said in passing.

It wasn’t until he tasted blood that Dean realized he’d been chewing his lip again. His mouth filled with a coppery taste as he sucked on the swollen portion. Feeling foolish and disappointed, he abandoned his bottle amidst the clutter on the breakfast bar and made to leave. No point in sticking around just to be _certain_ that he’d been mistaken about having a chance with the doctor.

“Dean,” said Cas softly, reaching out to touch his arm. Turning, Dean tried to put on a poker face and not be observed chewing his lip.

“It was good to see you this evening, I enjoyed our time together.”

“Uh, me too,” he said cautiously, assuming that Cas was bidding him goodnight and not wanting to appear as dejected as he really was. “Happy Birthday,” he added as an afterthought.

“Thank you. I hope it’s not too presumptuous of me,” said Cas, inclining his head closer as if to proffer a secret, “but I wonder if you might like to stay for a while longer?”

“Stay?”

“Yes. You see, Dean, I have arranged a sort of ‘birthday present’ for myself this evening.”

Dean didn’t dare speak for fear of saying the wrong thing, but he wondered if the ‘present’ was Kevin.

“I plan to spend the rest of the night making a video,” explained Dr. Novak. “I think it would be to your liking and I wondered if you might like to stay and watch?”

“St-Stay and watch?” he stammered.

“Yes, Dean. Would you like to stay and watch me shoot a video?”

The offer was enticing and Dean’s dick twitched excitedly in his pants just from the invitation. He’d been intrigued by Cas and his videos for a long time. He had dreamt about being in one, spun fantasies about doing it, and gone to great lengths to try and make it happen.

But, Dean had to admit to himself that in his imaginings, this wasn’t what he’d pictured.

As Castiel waited patiently for an answer, Dean considered the offer carefully. On the one hand, he’s been watching the doctor put his hands on other people from the beginning and this would basically be the same thing - only live. So, logically, there was no reason to assume that Dean wouldn’t enjoy the show.

But on the other hand, even if Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on why, watching Cas shoot a video in real life _would_ be different. It was pretty far what he’d imagined when he’d fantasized about Dr. Cum Control. He’d wanted to actually be part of a video, not watch one being made.

In reality, Dean knew that he was lucky to be receiving the offer. But this just wasn’t what he’d had in mind when he used the submission box on the Dr. Cum Control website; and it certainly wasn’t what he’d been hoping for this evening as he’d spent time with Castiel. Sadly though, it would seem that this was the best offer he’d be getting. So...

 

**What should Dean do?**

Say yes and stay to watch Cas in action as Dr. Cum Control (go to chapter 15)

Say no and explain honestly that he thinks he’s grown to like Cas too much and can no longer feel good about watching him with other people (go to chapter 16)

 


	15. Fifteen

 

After careful deliberation, Dean gave Castiel his answer. “Yeah, I’ll stay,” he said with a sigh.

“Good,” replied Cas as Dean shucked back out of his jacket. “Why don’t you fix yourself a drink and relax for a minute while I get things set up?”

Dean nodded, turning back towards the kitchen. He was feeling a bit numb as he stepped up to the breakfast bar and contemplated what to drink. He’d be here for hours… may as well make it a strong one. With that thought in mind, Dean picked up the one last Jello shot on the silver tray and sucked it down. He’d been curious about them all night but hadn’t taken one. As it slid down his throat, he likened the experience to swallowing a clam from a half-shell. The flavor was significantly better though, fruity and sweet. Enjoying the cloying and nectarous experience, Dean found himself reaching for the bottle of birthday cake vodka that he and Jimmy had sampled earlier. It was nearly empty and he tipped it upside down to get the last of it into a plastic cup.

Sitting down to nurse that cup, Dean looked around at the aftermath of the party.He sipped his drink until it was gone and then searched through the mostly empty bottles until he found his trusted go-to alcohol. Pouring the amber liquid into a new cup, Dean occupied himself with wondering what this experience would be like. Almost a half hour had ticked by when Cas finally returned to the kitchen. Dean was on his second whiskey by then, despite working to sip slowly.

“Dean, I think I’m ready for you now.”

This was it. If he was going to chicken out, this was his window of opportunity. Rising from his stool, Dean set down his cup and gave a nod. When Cas turned, Dean followed his lead and as he shadowed Castiel down the hall, Dean’s heart began to race and he felt a few beads of sweat form on his upper lip. Maybe he should’ve had some water as he’d waited, rather than two more drinks.

When they reached the door to the master bedroom of the house, Castiel stopped and turned, waiting for Dean. Approaching the doorway, Dean felt trepidation and was glad when Cas reached out and placed his hand on the small of Dean’s back, ushering him into the room.

It was hard to choose what to look at first and, though he wanted to take in the entire room, his eyes locked on Kevin. Dean was surprised to see the young man looking so relaxed. He was far from relaxed and he wasn’t even participating.

“Hey,” he said, unsure of what to say but unable to keep quiet.

“Hey,” replied Kevin. Stepping up to Dean he said, “I’ve never had a live audience before.”

“Well, um, thanks I guess? For letting me hang around and watch?”

“No problem. Have you ever been in a video?”

“No,” he answered, trying to keep the ice out of his voice and failing.

“Well, this is my sixth. I made my first as soon as I turned 18. I’ve been a fan for a long time. You?”

“Recent,” he choked out in response. “Recent fan. Just started watching this summer.”

“Maybe you’ve seen one of mine?”

“How would I know?” Dean chuckled, “he never shows the faces.”

“I’ve got a birthmark,” answered Kevin with a grin as he tugged aside the robe he was wearing, “right here. You can see it if you’re watching full screen.”

Dean followed Kevin’s pointing finger to a small angel kiss of color, right near his left hip bone. Yes, he’d seen this boy’s videos.

“So… Channing… is she, I mean, are you guys…” Dean was flustered now and felt himself blushing fiercely as he bumbled around trying to articulate the question that hovered forefront in his mind.

“She’s my girlfriend,” answered Kevin calmly, “and she understands me. I was doing this before we got together and she says she doesn’t mind that I continue to do it as long as there’s nothing going on between me and him.”

“Are you bi?”

“Maybe? I mean, he’s a dude and I like being touched by him. But when I think about who I want with me when I curl up to watch TV or fall asleep at night, it’s her.”

Dean felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s kinda sweet,” he heard himself saying. “And she’ll just, what, take a nap down the hall while you’re in here?”

“I don’t know if she’ll sleep. But she doesn’t like waiting in the living room, say’s she feels like she’s in a waiting room. She prefers something more private so Dr. Novak has been letting her use the guest room. ”

“I’m surprised she doesn’t want to watch.”

“She’s not even remotely interested in that,” admitted Kevin. “I asked if she wanted to once, but she said she didn’t like the idea of mixing his world and hers. She’s her own person, so that makes sense to me.”

“Dean,” said Cas firmly from across the room, drawing his attention to a comfortable looking chair, “you can sit over here.”

Walking over, he shot Cas an apologetic look for getting caught up in talking to Kevin and not paying attention to his host. Cas gave him nothing but a warm smile. It set him at ease. As he settled into the chair, Dean found himself relaxing.

Cas patted his shoulder reassuringly before walking away to speak with both the cameraman and Kevin.

Taking in the entire room, Dean realized that this master bedroom was exceptionally large. There was a stone fireplace in one corner, and it seemed empty over there. So, he assumed that the chair he was occupying was normally placed by the fire. The bed was large and had a heavy frame and was situated between two matching nightstands, each with its own lamp. Filling the wall between the fireplace and the bed was a dresser with a mounted mirror. Or so Dean thought. Presently, it was covered over with a dark sheet. That must’ve been the cameraman’s doing.

On the other side of the room were two doors. It seemed likely that one led to an ensuite bathroom and the other to a closet. Based on the dimensions of the room, it would seem that both were large. Between them was a hulking hutch. Some of the doors were open now, and Dean could see from his vantage point that this was where many of Cas’s toys were stored. In the gulf of space between the bedroom and the ‘toy cabinet’ sat the leather covered chair that Kevin would be sitting in. Dean was used to seeing one of two pieces of furniture in Cas’s videos… a regular wooden chair which was always covered in a towel or blanket and to which cuffs were always added, or what had appeared to be a modified weight bench which also lent itself to restraints. The chair set out for tonight was obviously new. Dean wondered if it was part of the doctor’s birthday present to himself.

As his eyes roved over the space, Dean found that he’d been placed with a good view to all that would be happening and he didn’t bother trying to hide his curiosity as he watched the cameraman finish setting up, adjusting the lights and reflectors. Cas and Kevin were chatting quietly, probably discussing the scene they were about to do. Kevin stood naked now, nodding along, and as Dean contemplated the confidence required to stand nude before three clothed men, he realized that it was quite warm in here. That was probably for Kevin’s benefit.

It felt like a long time before Kevin finally settled into the chair. He was all smiles as his wrists and ankles were bound. And why wouldn’t he smile? He knew what was coming. Pleasure.

Dean watched, fascinated, as Castiel went about securing the young man into position. Then, he walked purposefully over to the hutch and set up a tray. It looked like the trays that were used in the operating rooms on Dr. Sexy. Cas loaded it with a vibrator, lube, bottled water, and a tickler, among other things, and then rolled it over near Kevin to sit on a tape marker that the cameraman had likely placed.

When those enigmatic blue eyes fell on Dean, they were full of heat that Dean could feel. Castiel was gearing up. As the man crossed the room to him, Dean found himself wriggling in the chair to sit up straighter.

“Would you like a drink of water before we begin?” offered Cas.

“Yes sir?” he replied.

“I never told you to call me ‘Sir’,” said Cas with the flicker of restrained smile.

“May I call you Sir?” Dean asked boldly, repeating their exchange from the club.

“You may,” answered Castiel as he handed Dean a bottle of water.

Dean drank thirstily as he listened to Cas explain the ‘rules’ that would govern his inclusion in this scene. There was to be no speaking. No getting up from the chair. He wouldn’t be restrained or gagged unless he broke these rules and if any rules were broken, Dean would never be invited back. He was not to touch himself below the waist or remove any of his clothing.

Judging by the look on Cas’s face, Dean could tell that the man meant this without exception. He did not want Dean to disobey. Dean nodded his agreement as he downed the last of the liquid in his bottle and then he sat holding the empty container as Cas got down on one knee to speak softly to him.

“I’ve never invited anyone to watch me before.”

With that said, Dean felt his heart swell. Cas Novak hadn’t said, “watch a scene”. He’d said, “watch me.” This was personal. There was a connection between them and as their eyes remained locked, the realization sent a shiver up Dean’s spine.

Still down on one knee, Cas leaned in closer and rested a hand on Dean’s shin. “I hope you’ll enjoy this,” he said firmly, “but if you don’t, you can safeword. I will not be angry if you do.”

“Thanks Cas.”

When the man got up and left his side, Dean felt bereft. His heart ached for Cas to return, to look at him, to touch him, to take what Dean wanted to give him, which was everything.

From his seat in his chair, Dean watched silently, still clutching his water bottle as Cas pulled a dark hood on over his head and became Dr. Cum Control.

From the closet, he grabbed a little stool on wheels; the kind doctors use as they slide around an exam room. He rolled it over to Kevin’s side and perched himself on it, glancing at Kevin who gave him a nod. Cas turned and gave a similar nod to the cameraman and they were rolling.

Seeing Cas hidden completely behind a black hood was hard to get used to. It was made of a stretchy fabric and it clung to the shape of him. Wearing it, Cas looked a lot like the scary Doms he’d seen online, the ones who wore leather from head to toe and carried instruments of torture. The sight of these struck fear into Dean and he didn’t like thinking of Cas as one of those men. Thankfully, he wore only the hood which left the rest of his clothing visible. Seeing the familiar dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up made it easier to remember the parts of Castiel that were now hidden completely, like the sweep of his eyebrow and the cleft of his chin, the graceful way that his eyelashes fanned out over his cheek when he dipped his head.

Kevin’s body reacted strongly to Dr. Cum Control, as did Dean’s. He was rock hard in moments, they both were. Dean scooted back in his chair a little in an effort to relieve the pressure building behind his zipper.

Half a dozen paces away, under bright lights, the doctor leaned in on his stool, hands glistening with lubricant, and coaxed Kevin’s pretty dick to a darker color. The flesh was hard and standing straight up, its cap darkening from a blushing pink to crimson as it was stimulated. Dean hadn’t noticed the doctor putting a cock ring on the young man, but it was there, keeping his package taut and firm, as it would for the next few hours.

Silently, Dean grinned as he heard Jimmy’s voice in his head, “...I just wanna come, not cry and beg for it for hours first…” It was hard to suppress a chuckle.

Jimmy could have his quick-ass lay if he wanted it. Hell, the guy had pulled a stripper into his room quite a while ago. Even if Jimmy had given her the works - both were likely passed out by now. But for Dean? Things were just getting started. While his friend slept the night away in a nearby room, Dean would be on the edge and loving it.

Dean had been getting off to Dr. Cum Control for a while now, but never before had he been unable to touch himself… forced to wait… it was glorious.

When invited to watch, Dean hadn’t realized he’d be part of the scene. But he was, he could see that now. He was part of it because he’d been given instructions to follow and the threat of punishment if he didn’t. And, most of all, he was part of this because Cas knew he was watching. The man had never invited anyone to watch before, but here was Dean, eyes locked on the master as he worked.

Reality dissolved away as Castiel put Kevin through his paces and Dean forgot about everything on the other side of Cas’s bedroom door. He forgot about the cameraman too, and for a time, he even forgot about Kevin. His eyes were only for one man. Dr. Castiel Novak.

As a dull ache in his neck began growing more pronounced, Dean realized that he’d sunk low in his chair. So low, in fact, that he was straining to keep a line of sight with his Dom. He smiled widely as he thought of Cas that way and then began straining to sit up straighter. It wasn’t easy with his cock engorged like it was, swollen too big for the confines of his restrictive jeans.

Dean’s abdomen was aching and his limbs were shaky as he tried and failed to assume a good posture. His plastic water bottle, still clutched tightly, crinkled in his grasp and the sound of it carried loudly across the room.

In response to the sound, Castiel’s attention snapped from the young man in front of him to land on Dean. Through the mask and from this distance, it was impossible to tell if Dr. Cum Control was looking at Dean angrily or just looking at him. But just to be on the safe side, Dean dropped the bottle to the floor and tried to look repentant. In response, the mask changed shape to accommodate a smile which seemed to be spreading over Castiel’s face. Dean smiled back and tried not to feel the loss when his Dom turned his attention back to Kevin.

The young, trim Asian that was just Castiel’s type writhed under the doctor’s skilled hands and the man was ever attentive to his Sub. He watched like a hawk, sensing just the right moments to speed up, slow down, and stop completely. When things grew too much to bear, he’d reach over and coat his hands in cool water from a bottle. Returning those chilled hands to Kevin’s overheated skin, bringing a moan from the boy each time. Dean had watched enough videos to know that Cas was about to let this poor boy come. Those magic hands were busily changing up the sensations, only backing off when Kevin cried out, “Sir! Sir!”

Dean was aching for it every bit as much as the shackled boy. He had to bite his already swollen lip to keep from begging right along with Kevin.

As he watched, Dean could hear the faint memory of Cas’s voice playing over and over on a loop in his head. Time and again he heard the rules… no speaking… no touching…

Then Dean’s heartbeat accelerated further as he realized he’d found a loophole. Oh. Fuck yes… Castiel had instructed him not to touch himself below the waist; he’d said nothing about the areas above the waist. Dean grinned ear to ear as he realized that he absolutely WAS allowed to touch his nipples.

He was also allowed to move. Cas hadn’t said he couldn’t move, Dean had only been still out of reverence, he could see that now. So, while taking a deep breath, Dean pulled his hands from the arms of the chair up to his chest. Laying one over each of his nipples, he found them hard enough to cut glass. He didn’t trace them teasingly. He clamped down on them harshly, with all the pent up desire of a man driven mad with lust. He pinched and tweaked and despite his pleasure and excitement, he found no relief in the action. Touching himself this way didn’t quell his orgiastic need at all. Instead, the stimulation increased his yearning. Working to keep silent, Dean sought release as he fondled himself roughly through his shirt… the one he was forbidden to take off.

Sitting there in exquisite agony, Dean kept his eyes on Cas and his Sub as he pinched and rolled his own nubs through his shirt. Kevin’s visible desperation matched his own and when his shiny, triumphant dick shot a ribbon of pearlescent cum up onto his flat, sweaty, twitching stomach, Dean found himself releasing too.

He’d never come like this before in his life. Cum in his pants? Sure. Every prepubescent boy on the planet has done that. But to be enticed to orgasm without a single touch to his groin? Never. Fucking never.

Dean panted, sweat rolling down the sides of his face, eyes still locked on the pair across the room. As more time ticked by, Dean began to notice a subtle movement. It was hard to see from this distance, but after a while he grew quite certain that Cas was snitching occasional glances his way. As the cum cooled in his underwear and grew sticky, Dean began paying closer attention and saw that, yes indeed, the doctor was looking his way with almost military precision, about four times per minute. Dean’s erection had wilted after he came, but his chest warmed with affection as he grew more and more certain that Cas was every bit as interested in him as he was in his beautiful Asian boy.

He wanted to toy with the man a little, put on a show and see if that would garner more of Dr. Cum Control’s attention. But, fearing the punishment that had been threatened, Dean was unwilling to engage in any play beyond the watching he’d been invited to do. Maybe next time he’d be a bad boy… give Cas the opportunity to discipline him. But for now, he remained committed to being a very good boy for his Dom. More than any prize that Dean Winchester had ever coveted, he wanted this again. He wanted Cas again. In any way he’d be allowed to have him.

Kevin came three more times before Cas rose from his stool and deemed the video complete. He immediately released Kevin from his bonds and knelt beside his chair to offer praise. Dean tried not to be jealous as he watched them together. But even now, at the conclusion of some very heavy sexual activity, Dean could see no real heat between them.

Kevin looked tired and Cas gently helped him work the stiffness from his arms and legs. He gave the young man a bottle of water, which was accepted gratefully. As Kevin downed the drink, Cas pulled his stack of clothes from a nearby side table and then gently walked Kevin to the adjoining bathroom. Once the door was closed, Cas headed towards Dean.

It was obvious that Kevin was showering, and the cameraman was busily tearing down his equipment and packing it away. Dean was still seated in his chair. His cock had filled and gone flaccid several times since he’d come in his pants and the itch in his groin was maddening. But still, he held his frame in a locked position and waited to hear what Castiel would say to him.

Once again bending down to one knee, Cas smiled softly at him and said, “I’m proud of you Dean, you did very, very well.”

Dean opened his mouth to say thanks, but only a strange croaking sound would come out. It was odd; he’d spent such a long time trying to keep quiet and now that he wanted to speak, he couldn’t.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Y-yes,” he rasped, willing his voice to project.

Cas stood then, and extended his hand as if to help Dean up from his seat. He laid his palm in Cas’s and let the man pull him to standing. An exaggerated wince spread over his face as his little hairs pulled against the dried cum that had seeped all over between his legs. As he rose to the same height as his Dom, a bit higher actually, Dean grimaced as he admitted that, “a shower wouldn’t be a bad idea either.”

“Dean, did you come?”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t, Sir.”

“That’s right,” smiled Cas warmly, “I just wish I’d seen it.”

“That can be arranged,” he joked, his regular personality slipping back into place now that the scene was ended. To his surprise, Castiel didn’t laugh him off.

He peered at Dean from under an arched eyebrow and said, “Yes, it can.”

Elated at Cas’s words, Dean tried to focus on just stretching his legs and drinking the water that had been put into his hands. “Please,” said Cas, as Dean drank, “consider staying longer. I’d like to have some time with you before you leave.”

Dean was far too elated to hold back his smile as he nodded his agreement. Cas left his side then and busied himself with wiping down the bondage chair. He then carried his tray of things over to the bathroom and left it sitting outside the door. By then, the cameraman was packed up and ready to go. Dean watched him offer to help Cas put away the chair. The two men lifted it up and carried it into the closet and then shook hands as they said goodnight.

Dean’s eyes flicked to the clock. It was almost four am. He should be tired. His alcohol buzz was long gone, seamlessly replaced with the hum of adrenaline and erotic desire. With the cameraman gone, Castiel turned his attention back to Dean. He sauntered over and stood too close as he softly said, “I liked having you watch Dean.”

“I liked watching,” he answered, his voice coming out in a whisper.

“Would you like something to eat?”

“No.”

A sly grin spread over Cas’s face. “Something else to put in your mouth perhaps?”

Unable to hold back, Dean huffed an eager laugh and said, “Yeah, perhaps.”

Just then, the bathroom door opened and Kevin emerged. He appeared tired but refreshed. Cas left Dean’s side then, and moved to intercept. Still uncomfortable in his pants, Dean watched as Cas offered the boy to stay and have something to eat or drink. He politely refused the offer, though, saying that he’d already texted Channing and she was now waiting for him in the livingroom.

“I’ll walk you out then,” said Cas, casting a look at Dean that asked him to be patient. Dean thought of sitting down as he waited for Cas to return, but he didn’t. He walked a large circle around the room, stretching his legs and pausing to look at the various pictures and art that decorated the space. On the fireplace mantle was a picture of the Novak twins together as young boys. They were posed in front of a Christmas tree in little matching suits. Next to that was a family photo that had been taken more recently and Dean looked carefully at each member of the family before moving on. When Cas returned to the room, he cut across the open floor to Dean.

“Let’s clean you up, shall we?” offered Cas with hint of a smile.

Dean nodded and let himself be steered towards the bathroom that Kevin had just used. When they stepped inside, Dean was surprised. He’d known it must be a large bathroom, but this was beyond what he’d pictured. In one corner was a huge shower behind a glass wall and door. Having just been used, the glass was wet and foggy. There was a double vanity sink on the adjacent wall. Butted up to the long vanity at its other end was a huge jetted tub. Glass tile work surrounded it and the steps leading up to it, and the hardware was a complementary brushed nickel. Dean stood in the middle of the floor and waited as Castiel walked over to the tub and started it filling.

“I assume you’re not in a rush?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Nope.”

“Good.”

Cas busied himself about the room as the water in the tub grew deeper. He put on music, lit some candles, and dimmed the lights.

“You have a light dimmer in the bathroom?” Dean asked stiltedly.

“I put a lot of thought into the design of this bathroom when I had the house built.”

“You must get a lot of action in here,” blurted Dean, not thinking.

Even from behind, Dean could tell by the tilt of Cas’s head that he was right. A lot of lovers had been comfortable in this space. Cas turned back towards him, composed as always, and said, “I had always wanted a really nice bathroom. So, when I decided to build this house, it was an indulgence that I allowed myself despite it’s lack of practicality. Well, that and the extra square footage in the bedroom.”

“Well,” said Dean, struggling to find something to say, “I hear that if you’re gonna spend extra on a house, the kitchen and bath are where you should do it.”

“Yes,” nodded Cas, “I’ve heard that as well.”

The air seemed to be siphoned out of the room as Castiel stepped in closer, holding Dean still with only the weight of his stare. The man dipped his head as he drew closer, his gaze dropping from Dean’s face to his body. Dean inhaled sharply as he felt purposeful fingers set to work on his the buttons of his shirt.

Sensing the doctor’s unspoken command, Dean stayed still and let Cas undress him. First his shirt was pulled tenderly from his shoulders and then his zipper was clutched and pulled lower. With nothing to do, Dean’s hands twitched at his sides but he willed them to be still as Cas slid down to his knees and began to slide Dean’s pants and underwear down his legs. When his calves were tapped, one after the other, Dean lifted his leg in response and allowed his Dom to pull off his jeans and his socks.

Naked, he stood before the man who owned him and waited to see what would come next. From his position on the floor, Cas looked up at him with expressive blue eyes. No words were spoken, but Dean got the feeling that he was meant to allow himself to be seen. As in the club, Cas didn’t want him to suck in his belly or try to pose. He just wanted to look… to see Dean as he really was. It was quite invasive to be studied so blatantly and he felt gooseflesh break out over his skin as he was scrutinized.

Without words, Castiel gave Dean his acceptance. He leaned forward and lightly ran his lips over Dean’s upper thigh, traveling higher and flicking his tongue out as he rose. When Cas brought his tongue to the juncture of Dean’s hip, he circled it there before attaching his mouth tightly, sucking down on the skin there as if to leave a mark next to his prominent hipbone. If words had been used, they would’ve been, “I want you.” But words weren’t necessary. In the low light, Dean felt himself seen and desired and he smiled warmly as Cas rose to standing. He followed without hesitation when Cas took him by the wrist and led him to the tub.

“Is the temperature alright?” asked Cas as he slid in.

“Oh yeah,” Dean sighed as he sank down into it. “Yeah, Cas. It’s good.”

“I love taking a long bath after… well, after.”

“Thanks for letting me join,” Dean replied, letting his head rest against the side. He’d not realized that his eyes were shut until the water was turned off. Then, there was only the sound of soft music. Dean willed himself to open his eyes and look at Cas and to memorize this, just in case it never happened again.

“It’s a pleasure having you here Dean,” said his Dom softly. “Tell me, would you like to spend the night?”

“Yes, Sir,” he whispered, somehow keeping still despite the joyful leap of his heart. Dean didn’t care if the ‘sir’ was or wasn’t technically appropriate when they weren’t in a scene. He liked using it. And, looking at the expression on Cas’s face from across the surface of the water, it was clear that the man enjoyed hearing it. With a knowing smirk, Castiel reached over and turned on the jets. Together they groaned in satisfaction as the water began to churn around them. Neither one spoke for quite a while as they relaxed in comfortable silence. The song changed twice. Relaxed as he was, though, Dean wasn’t sleepy. He was soaking up every moment of this and loving the feel of sharing the tub with Castiel. Their legs bumped together occasionally and as their skin turned prunish, they began to talk.

Cas asked Dean what had brought him to Pontiac and Dean explained that he’d honestly only intended to spend a few days here while waiting for his car to be fixed, but that it hadn’t taken long to realize that he wanted to stay. He couldn’t articulate a reason why he liked the area, only that he did. Cas, in turn, told about his childhood growing up back east, his days in college, and his decision to accept a position in the heartland rather than on the coast, for no other reason than that he’d been in love with a man who wanted to live here.

“Is he still around?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” admitted Cas. “You’ve met him. His name is Balthazar.”

“I kinda wondered if you guys were a couple when I met him.”

“We were, once. That was a long time ago.”

“But you’re still friends.”

“Yes, he’s a very dear friend. But that is all he’ll ever be.”

“Why?”

“Well Dean, sometimes the way to know for sure that you _don’t_ want something is to have it for a while.”

Dean nodded, understanding the feelings Cas was trying to convey and deciding not to pursue the details of what had happened between these men.

“What about you, Dean?”

“What about me?” he quirked.

“Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have?”

“Besides you?” he teased gently. “Yeah, sure. But not the way you mean,” he answered honestly. “I fuckin’ want my mom back, more than anything. But she’s gone and that’s it. I want my dad, I mean, I want him to nut up and actually _be_ a dad. A good one. But that’s probably never gonna happen either.”

“You deserve better, Dean. I hope you know that.”

Looking away, Dean clenched his chin and held a poker face firmly in place as he took his next few breaths. When he’d said the words out loud, he was just answering the question honestly. He hadn’t known how deeply the answer would affect him or how hard it would be to keep from letting the devastation show. Deep down, he knew Cas was right… he deserved better, just as Sam did. But for some reason, it was harder to believe it for himself than it was for his little brother.

“What else do you want, Dean?” whispered Cas, probably sensing Dean’s vulnerability.

“I-I dunno, man, all kinds of stuff I guess. A million bucks? To be the star of my own TV show?”

Cas smiled at him indulgently; huffed a laugh. Then he trained a heavy stare on him and let its weight remind Dean that his question deserved a real answer. Ready to give it, Dean considered for a moment before saying, “I wanna live closer to Sammy, but I’m already too settled here to even think about movin’.”

“You’re happy here,” said Cas. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, I think I am. Or, that I will be.”

“Will be?”

“I guess. M’not sure I can explain that,” admitted Dean, starting to relax again in the churning hot water. “But, I think I can feel it comin’. Like, I’ve got friends here who accept me for who I am - and that’s kinda new for me. I like my jobs too. I mean, it’s not like my dreams all came true, but I think I’m happy enough with the work. Hell, maybe someday I’ll even settle down with somebody… raise a couple of diaper fillers… who knows, right?”

“Diaper fillers,” repeated Castiel on a drawn out laugh.

“Yeah, man, shit machines,” grinned Dean, starting to laugh. “Trouble makers. Once I get my life all sorted out and running’ smooth, it’ll get boring. I’ll need to spice it up. No better way to do that than to pop out a couple carbon copies of my trouble-makin’ ass.”

Still laughing, Cas reached for Dean. Dean leaned into the touch, anticipating it, and let the man’s wet fingers clamp around the back of his neck to pull him in. With unfettered joy, Dean parted his lips and let Cas seal them together.

As he sank into their kiss, Dean let himself curl into Cas’s body. His left leg bent and wrapped itself around the slippery wet body of his welcoming Dom. Their arms tangled too, circling around one another and for the entire time they were locked together, there was a small and pitiful voice in the back of his head, just begging him to remember every detail just in case this never happened again. Even with his mind lost to the kiss, floating in bliss, some part of him was worried that he’d never again feel the way he did right now.

That small element of fear was new to Dean Winchester and it was the defining element of why this was different from anything he’d ever felt before. This was it, and he knew it. He was falling in love.

When they parted, Cas kept their faces close for a moment. Slowly opening his eyes from the hazy glow of affection, he saw Castiel’s eyes blink open too. The man’s nose  crinkled up and so did the corners of his eyes as he let out a snicker and repeated, “Shit machines.” Both of them giggled at the absurdity of it and as they pulled apart, each settling back into their previous positions, Cas said, “I’ve never really thought much about having kids. I’m not sure why. But my mom jokes about it every Christmas. She says that between Jimmy’s wandering eye and me being gay, she’s doomed to have no grandchildren.”

“Well, fatherhood isn’t for everybody,” allowed Dean as he returned his head to resting on the side of the tub. “It sure as fuck wasn’t for my old man.”

“You’ll do it better,” assured Cas with a warm smile. “With the right person.”

Dean was glad his eyes were closed when that was said because Cas read him well, and all he could think was, _It’s you, dumbass, you’re the one! Can’t you feel it?_

They lingered a bit longer in the tub before Cas sat forward and began the water draining out. Dean got to his feet and found his knees still a bit unsteady. Cas stepped out and by the time Dean had set foot on the tiled floor, Cas was there with a fluffy towel. He didn’t just hand it to Dean as expected, but actually began to dry Dean’s body with it. It was a bit emasculating, he thought, to be dried off like a child, but he let Cas do it and was surprised to find that the sensation was quite enjoyable once he got past his reservations.

When he’d been deemed dry enough, the towel was laid over his shoulders and Cas turned away from him. Grabbing another towel, Castiel turned his attention to his own body. It was a nice body, made all the more attractive in an atmosphere of flickering candlelight and soft music.

Letting his eyes wander over the man’s form, Dean put hands to his own towel and dabbed at his hair. His package, long forgotten in the bath, was awake and refreshed now and it plumped between his legs as he watched his Dom bend and stretch while drying off. When they’d both finished and had towels wrapped securely around their waists, Castiel opened the door and led them back into the bedroom which was dark now. It was cool compared to the steamy warmth of the bathroom.

As they neared the bed, he found himself being deprived of his towel. It flopped to the ground at his feet and Dean heard Castiel’s join it. Then, there was a firm hand on the small of his back again and Dean felt himself guided into the bed and under the covers. The linens were fresh and inviting as he crawled in and slid over, leaving room for Cas to climb in behind him.

Before his head had even hit the pillow, Cas’s hand was under it. Orienting his body toward the warmth of his Dom, As he was rolled onto his back, Dean slid his arms and legs around the man. It was thrilling to be here, in the bed of the one he wanted so desperately, and to have their bodies fit together so easily. From beneath the weight of Castiel’s body, Dean tipped his head up in the dark, searching for the lips he wanted to kiss and feeling grateful for every moment that he’s been given tonight.

Once they tangled together, the rest was a blur. Dean felt himself both desired and owned and in equal measure he returned those feelings, knowing that this man would become the one against which all others would be measured from now on.

Cas caged him between strong arms and let his body rest between Dean’s spread legs.  “Dean,” he murmured softly, “I want you.”

It was too cheesy. No matter how fast he was falling, Dean couldn’t bring himself to say, “I’m yours,” or “You have me,” or any of the other obvious responses. But in the absence of words, he used his body to show what he felt in every way he could. He clung tightly as Cas rolled his hips and pressed their heavy cocks together, moist skin sticking and catching just like Dean’s breath. He moaned contentedly as his lower half began to tingle and his stomach clenched in anticipation of what was to come. As Cas lowered his head and began to lay kisses along his collarbone, Dean could only wonder if it was about to happen… that thing he’d been wondering about, even dreaming about, for years now. Just considering it, his heartbeat sped up and before he could stop himself, Dean was whispering, “Are you gonna fuck me?”

A deep and throaty chuckle vibrated against Dean’s chest. It sounded hungry. “Not tonight,” Cas husked into his skin.

“Please?” he tried, despite knowing it would be no use.

“Patience,” mumbled Castiel between kisses. “Good things come to those who wait.”

Dean tried not to be disappointed, but it was impossible. He bit his lip again, sucking on the swollen tissue as he tried not to let a whine sneak out. He knew Cas wouldn’t like it.

As Dean silently nursed his disappointment, Cas was helping him forget it. His kisses turned fiery as they migrated lower, hot tongue flicking out over Dean’s sensitive nipples. A groan of ecstasy slipped out of him as Cas’s teeth teased over his hardened nubs and Dean locked his legs behind Cas’s back, straining to press up into the man. With their shafts tucked in together between their bodies, he could feel his Dom’s hardness against his own and he loved it. His hands wandered over Cas, enjoying the man’s broad shoulders and smooth back. His lips sought out the other man’s neck and he peppered kisses up to scruffy cheeks and over, searching the heated dark between them for Castiel’s mouth. Once they connected again, the men began kissing heavily, moaning wantonly as they began rutting together. And then, just when Dean had gotten lost in it, Cas was pulling away, untangling himself from Dean. He felt himself being moved, his limbs manipulated, and then was thrilled to find his mouth suddenly being forced open, Cas’s thumb pressing in and coaxing him to open wider and take a dick.

Dean’s words of gratitude were garbled as he was fed Castiel’s length. Now on his back and pressed into the mattress by the weight of his lover’s body, Dean found the pillow beneath his head annoying. Because of the angle of his body on the bed, it was only halfway under his head. Doing his best to ignore it, Dean tried to focus his efforts on Cas’s cock. The man was practically riding Dean’s face, one leg on either side of his head, and from above Castiel was whispering something about satisfying an oral fixation. Dean tried to agree, but undignified sounds collected in his chest, locked down by the thick dick that now sat heavily on his tongue and crowded the back of his throat.

Halfway to gagging, with spit backing up in his mouth, Dean jackknifed across the bed as he clutched Castiel’s groin to him and desperately tried to bring his man’s cock in deeper. His body was singing with delight as he gagged himself, his few strangled breaths pulling in the musky scent of cock.

His own dick felt like a tree trunk between his legs, hard and heavy. With the arousal building, both began to thrust their hips urgently, Cas into Dean’s mouth and Dean into nothing but a scramble of limbs.

Just when Dean started to get dizzy, really needing to breathe and not being able to, Cas pulled out of him, leaving his mouth gaping open. Air rushed into his lungs and he panted, his chest heaving. When he swallowed, he tasted a mixture of skin and salty precome and his own spit which had flooded his mouth.

As he recovered, he was being moved again, turned between a tangle of sheets and limbs until his face was in the pillow and his ass was out in the cool air of the room. Dean scrambled to get his knees under him and then felt himself being pressed down again, his knees spreading apart as wet fingers slid down his crack.

Cas was moving fast, always a step ahead of him, always pushing from one sensation to the next and leaving Dean scrambling to catch up. Now, with his face down and his ass up, Dean arched his back and hoped for penetration.

“Yesss,” he sighed as a single digit pressed in. Rocking back on the finger, Dean groaned and turned to look behind him. He couldn’t see much in the dark, but his eyes were adjusting and he could make out the shape of his Dom, crouched behind him and stroking his own cock as he finger fucked Dean. Dean’s own dick was hanging low, it’s tip dragging over the sheet as he moved forward and back, aching to be spread further open.

Shifting his weight to one side, he managed to get one palm wrapped around himself. Stroking with a heavy hand, Dean felt his body start to anticipate climax. Upon recognizing this, his brain went to war with itself. Half of him wanted to hide his approaching orgasm from Cas out of fear that he’d deny it, while the other half of him wanted to beg for permission to come. Still another part of him wanted to be denied, yearned for a spanking or some other form of pain to cut through his pleasure and send him back to square one.

Dean thought he’d lose his mind as his different desires warred with one another. But Cas knew what was going on - of course he did. “You think too much,” he chastised. “Just feel me.”

“Feel you,” parroted Dean softly as he was again repositioned. On his back again now, face to face with Cas, he smiled as the man came to rest upon him, easing his way between Dean’s spread legs and trapping their swollen cocks between them.

With Cas guiding and setting the rhythm, the two began moving. Slow rolls soon morphed into brutish humping and as their cocks slid sloppily through their own slippery sweat and juices. Dean’s heart hammered as Castiel’s mouth latched onto his nipple and sucked hard. Likely encouraged by Dean’s response, the man began lightly dragging teeth over the nubs and soon, little nibbles had become erotic biting. The combination of urgent frotting and nipple play had Dean riding the edge and panting with pleasure.  “I’m gonna…” he whispered. “Cas… M’gonna…”

“Me too,” replied the doctor, planting sloppy kisses up his shoulder and neck in between steamy breaths. Dean sucked the man’s skin desperately, not even sure where his mouth was as he approached his end.

When he came, Dean saw bright colors behind his clenched eyelids and his hand clamped onto Cas’s shoulder, holding on tight as the force of his passion sent him reeling.

When reality came back to Dean, Cas’s face was buried in his neck and Dean smiled contentedly, the two of them still rocking slowly inside their nest of covers. He loved that Cas didn’t pull away. His Dom stayed with him, twined together, until their breathing was normal again and the sticky mess between their bodies started to itch.

Dean felt Cas cup his face and smiled again as a kiss was pressed to his cheek. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d smiled so many times in one damn night. Blissfully content, it was easy to remain still and quiet while Cas went about cleaning them up.

Then, when his man laid back down, Dean happily tipped his head to rest on Cas’s shoulder. A soft light was filtering in through the drapes, the sun coming up outside, but Dean willfully closed his eyes and gave no further thought to the morning, simply wishing the outside world away. He was still enjoying the warm embrace of his new lover as he fell asleep, but it seemed like only a moment later when a sharp and irritating noise woke him.

In response, the warm body he’d been so pleasantly entangled with began to pull away from him. He grumbled a protest and Cas told him to go back to sleep as he got out of bed. Dean tried, but was unable. Instead, he listened to the sound of Castiel going to answer the door. Thankfully, Cas soon returned to the bedroom and closed the door to crawl back in.

“It’s just the maid service,” he reassured Dean. “Wouldn’t be much birthday fun if Jim and I had to get up today and clean up the colossal mess out there.”

“No, I s’pose not,” agreed Dean, burrowing his way back into Cas’s arms.

Both were quiet for a bit and Dean hated how much he liked their cuddling. After a few minutes, it became obvious by their breathing that neither was falling back to sleep. It was almost a relief when Cas finally spoke.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Last night… in the tub… you mentioned that your job isn’t exactly a dream come true.”

“I don’t suppose there’s many waiters or bartenders who feel like they’re living the dream Cas.”

“You work at a garage too, right?”

“Yeah, but I just run the counter. I don’t even work on the cars.”

“I see. But you’d like to?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that your dream? To work on cars?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t ya?” chuckled Dean. “I mean, lookit what I drive, right? But if I’m honest, I don’t know that I’d call working on cars my dream come true unless I was workin’ on my own restoration on my own time.”

“Well, what is it Dean? What’s the dream?”

“I don’t really know.”

“Sure you do. You probably just avoid thinking of it, especially if you feel like you can’t have it. Give it some thought, hmm? See what you come up with.”

“Sure,” agreed Dean. He pulled away from Cas a bit then, just feeling a bit too vulnerable. For relief, he deflected the attention he usually craved and tried to steer the conversation away from himself. “Was the doctor thing your dream?” he asked.

“Which one,” huffed Cas with a rumble of laughter.

Dean joined him, laughing as he realized that his question could be applied to either Castiel’s day job as a doctor or his secret side job as Dr. Cum Control.

“Yes, Dean, I’ve always wanted to be a doctor. There’s never been any doubt in my mind about that. I was a bit uncertain, as I went through school, about what I’d want my specialty to be, but I’ve always wanted to help people. Heal them when they’re broken. Take care of them.”

“Me too,” said Dean. “Maybe not the same way, but yeah. I mean, I practically raised my brother. I protected him from our dad the best I could and made sure he had what he needed. Now that he’s grown, I’d like to do something with my life that helps people or even saves them. I remember the night my mom died… the paramedics, man, they were amazing. I think it would be awesome to ride out like that… be that person who charges in to save a life. That’d be the fuckin’ shit, Cas.”

Dean felt Castiel slide closer and found himself ready to curl back into the man’s arms, loving that he seemed so welcome there. Once more, he accepted a soft kiss to his cheek and then Cas surprised him by whispering into his ear, “Perhaps you’ve just found the dream, Dean.”

He was stunned at the simplicity of the thought. Was it his dream to be a paramedic? Maybe it was. He smiled as he considered it and kept smiling as he was rolled over in the bed. He’d never been so happy as he was in this moment, imagining a future that seemed bright with promise from his new position of ‘little spoon’. Laying there with Cas, all lines of communication wide open, Dean summoned the courage to ask a question that had been niggling at him for months.

“Hey Cas, I gotta ask… the whole Dr. Cum Control thing… what do you get out of it?”

Cas was silent for a moment, perhaps reflecting on how to best answer. “I mean,” clarified Dean, “most people would assume that you get off on it. I used to think so. But I’ve watched all your videos and now I’ve caught the live act. Dude. You hardly ever even get hard. So, if you’re not getting off on it, what _are_ you gettin’ out of it?”

Cas sighed and gave Dean a one-word answer. “Satisfaction.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I enjoy seeing them need… hearing them beg… knowing what they want and deciding when to give it to them. I love making them wait for it too, because the longer they wait, the more fulfilled they are when they finally get what they want. The thing is, Dean, we humans are strange creatures. We want things, but as soon as we have what we want, we don’t want it anymore. Life is a careful balancing act in that respect. If we’re not made to wait and to want, if it’s too easy, we lose the desire for it. Apply that logic to almost anything in life and it will hold true. I think that my foray into edging began the minute I learned that I’m a dominant person. Exploring my sexuality led me to this because it’s fundamental to everything in life. The waiting, Dean, it feels inevitable to me and I like to use it. Play with it.”

“You’re right,” answered Dean, realizing the truth of the man’s words. “All the time I was watching your videos, I tried and tried to make myself wait. Somehow I knew it would be better that way. But I didn’t have it in me. I couldn’t ever do it. Not until last night when you finally made me.”

“You have no patience, do you Dean?” he chuckled.

“Nope. Never have. I want everything right now. I eat til I’m sick, drink til I’m hammered, stay awake til I’m exhausted, spend til I’m broke, man, I’ve got zero self control.”

“I guess you’ve come to the right place,” joked Castiel with a straight face.

Dean reached up, initiating for the first time, and pressed his mouth to the side of Castiel’s face. He was pleased to feel his affections accepted and sank back down into the comfy bed afterwards. “Thanks for last night Cas.”

“No, Dean, thank you,” said Castiel warmly.

“You liked me watchin’,” he grinned into the sheets.

“Yes, I did.”

They slept away most of the afternoon, but when Cas rose from bed, so did Dean. The two went to the bathroom where they took turns using the facilities and brushing teeth and then Cas handed Dean his clothes back. “You can keep that toothbrush,” said Cas.

“You have a huge box of those somewhere, don’t you?” joked Dean. But as he stepped back into yesterday's clothes, a bit of melancholy began to settle over him. The toothbrush had reminded Dean that he was just one of many men who had used the giant bathroom here in Cas’s room, and that after him there would likely be many more. Was it really possible that this was one sided? It didn’t seem plausible; not when they’d been so intimate. But maybe Cas was just such a good Dom that Dean had felt like there was more to their connection than there actually was?

“I wish you could stay a bit longer,” sighed Cas, “I’d make you something to eat.”

“Well, that sounds great Cas, but I gotta get to the restaurant. I have a shift at six. My place ain’t as nice as yours,” he added with a laugh, “but somebody’s gotta pay the rent on that palace.”

With his worries tucked away next to his new toothbrush, Dean paused on the way out and they kissed sweetly at the front door when they said goodbye. Dean had spent so long at Cas’s place that by the time he’d gone home to change, he was nearly late for work. His shift was good as usual. Generous tips, easy camaraderie with his co-workers, and a few drinks with them after.

He resisted the urge to call or text Cas, but it wasn’t easy. He did call Sammy though, the minute he got home. He was glad for the time difference since it was after midnight. They talked for a few minutes, Sam confirming that he would definitely be able to visit for Christmas and providing the dates and his flight information. Dean promptly wrote it all on the calendar and then told his baby brother that he’d spent last night with the man he’d been crushing on.

It was fun to indulge his more ‘touchy-feely’ side by talking about Cas with Sam. For the next few days, Dean was floating on a cloud. Knowing what he did about Castiel, Dean didn’t expect to hear from him. He hoped that he would, but he didn’t expect it.  Besides, even if Cas planned to call him, he wouldn’t do it for a while… he’d want to make Dean wait. And wait he did - for almost a week. Then, that Thursday night when he arrived at the restaurant, Max found him at the bar and said there was a package for him in the office. Curious what it might be, Dean walked back there right away. Thankfully, no one had followed him because this package wasn’t one he’d want another soul to see.

Even with it partially opened, Dean immediately turned to shut the door behind him so no one could catch a glimpse. Inside were several layers of gold tissue paper which cradled a pair of emerald green silk panties. They were cut for a woman’s curves, but there was enough of the satiny material to cup his package and Dean knew that was no accident. Neither was the fact that these panties matched his eyes perfectly. His heart was racing as he lifted them from the box and imagined himself putting them on… Cas watching him. Fuck.

In the bottom of the box was a single piece of paper. Lifting it out, Dean saw a handwritten note signed by Castiel. He tucked the panties back in the box to keep them out of sight and then read what turned out to be an invitation. Cas was shooting another video and he wanted Dean there. Of the panties, the note said, “I thought of you when I saw these. Please wear them when you come. Tomorrow at seven.”

 

 

**What should Dean do?**

Accept the invitation and wear the panties as instructed (go to chapter 17)

Decline the invitation explaining that he now realizes that he’s too interested in Cas to willingly share him with another  (go to chapter 18).  

 


	16. Sixteen

 

After careful consideration, Dean gave Cas his answer. “I can’t, man. I mean, I’m thrilled with the offer. I am. I’m frickin’ thrilled. But I’ve wanted to sit in your chair for a long damn time. But, you don’t want me there, and don’t wanna be sloppy seconds, just sittin’ around watchin’. Not even for you.”

“Dean,” began Cas, “I didn’t mean to imply that-

“Save it, Cas. Look, man, like I said, I appreciate the offer. But the thing is, as much as I hate to fuckin’ admit it, I’m kinda strung out on you. And me sittin’ around watchin’ you show some other dude a good time? It ain’t gonna help things any.”

Having said that, Dean stepped back from Cas. He avoided the man’s eyes as he turned to leave, unable to look at him now that he’d admitted everything. It took him about five steps to regret his words and wish he could do it over.

As he walked through the living room, Dean wanted nothing more than to back the clock up and accept the offer. At least that way he’d get a good show before he went home alone and heartbroken.

“Wait,” called Cas from behind him. He paused, but didn’t turn, still unable to look the man in his face after having made himself so vulnerable.

“Dean,” said Cas, putting a hand to his shoulder. “I apologize for offering you something that you clearly don’t want. But if you can spare a few minutes, I’d really like for us to talk. Why don’t you stay and just have a drink with me before you go.”

“A drink?”

“Yes, Dean, a drink. I meant it when I said I’d enjoyed our time together tonight. And, perhaps when I invited you to stay, I just wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet?”

Dean found himself daring to hope, for a moment, that maybe Cas’s invitation had been more than he’d thought… more than just a cold helping of sloppy seconds.

“Wait,” he huffed, “there’s a guy in your room gettin’ naked. And you’re gonna, what, have a damn night cap with me?”

“He can wait,” nodded Castiel.

Dean begrudgingly agreed and followed the man to a stool at the breakfast bar.  

“What’s your poison?” Cas asked conversationally as he pulled clean glasses from a cupboard.

“Whiskey.”

“You don’t want to help me finish the last of the Jello Shots?” teased Cas with a straight face.

“I think I’ve had enough of the froofy shit for one night.”

“Would you like something to eat?” offered Cas, leaning over the counter to pour Dean’s drink.

“No thanks man,” he said cautiously, waiting. Clearly Cas had something he needed to get off his chest, and Dean was ready for him to do it. But, silence dominated as the man poured another glass for himself and eased down into the stool next to Dean’s. As they sat and sipped in silence, a thought suddenly occurred to Dean. Cas was a very private man. And Dean knew his secrets. As far as Castiel Novak was concerned, Dean was probably a loose cannon that needed to be dealt with.

“Damage control? Is that what this is?” he asked.

Cas leveled his eyes on Dean’s and said, “What?”

“You’re worried that I won’t keep your secrets now that you’ve shot me down, right? Well don’t lose any sleep over it, man, I’m not gonna ‘out’ you.”

“I know that,” said Castiel softly. “And I haven’t shot you down, Dean, I just haven’t given you what you wanted.”

“Yeah,” he challenged roughly, anger welling up in him again, “and you know dick about what I want.”

“I know you’re accustomed to _getting_ what you want - sexually, at least. You’re not used to being made to wait, or even to work for it.”

That much was true. “Yeah,” he admitted, his anger dying down a bit. “I guess patience isn’t really my virtue.”

“Perhaps not. But as with most things in life, the anticipation is half the fun. Why do you think edging is so intense?”

As Dean recognised the truth of Cas’s words, the last of his resentment faded away. “I tried,” he admitted lamely, “so many times. But I can’t ever get through a video without…

“Without finishing yourself off?”

“Yeah,” he admitted reluctantly. Maybe that’s why I wanted to be in your chair so damn bad. I just wanted to see what it’d be like to be forced to wait, ya know?”

“Because you never wait for anything, do you.” It was a question, but Cas said it like a statement of fact.

Dean begrudgingly nodded agreement. “I don’t know what it is,” he complained, “I’ve got no patience...I can’t put away a pie and just have another piece tomorrow. I try to stop eating, but I keep going back for more. I eat til I’m sick. It’s like that with everything. I drink til I’m hammered, stay awake til I’m exhausted, spend til I’m broke, man, I’ve got zero self control.”

Cas was nodding along as if he already knew all these things about Dean. Fuck it all anyway, Dean thought, the man didn’t want him, what could it hurt to just be honest? And with that sentiment, he asked a question that had been niggling at him for a long time.

“Hey Cas, I gotta ask… the whole Dr. Cum Control thing… what do you get out of it?”

The man was silent for a moment, perhaps reflecting on how to best answer. “I mean,” clarified Dean, “most people would assume that you get off on it. I used to think so. But I’ve watched all your videos and I’ve noticed that you hardly ever even get hard. So, if you’re not getting off on it, what _are_ you gettin’ out of it?”

Cas sighed and gave Dean a one-word answer. “Satisfaction.” Then he tipped his head back and finished the last of his drink.

“Really?”

“Yes,” answered Cas reaching for the bottle. It was nearly empty. He topped off Dean’s glass and then poured the rest into his own. Then, sitting back, he thoughtfully said, “I enjoy seeing them needy… hearing them beg… making them wait. And I suppose I like being the one who decides when they’ll finally get what they’ve been waiting for.

“The thing is, Dean, we humans are strange creatures. We want things, but as soon as we have what we want, we don’t want it anymore. Life is a careful balancing act in that respect. If we’re not made to wait and to want, if something’s too easy to get, we lose the desire for it. Apply that logic to almost anything in life and it will hold true. I think that my foray into edging was a natural progression that began when I came to understand motivation, and peaked when I learned that I’m a dominant person. Exploring my sexuality led me to this because it’s fundamental to everything in life. This pattern of needing, waiting, and then finally getting, it resonates with me.”

Dean closed his eyes and sipped his drink, letting the doctor’s words sink in.

“So,” said Cas, breaking the long silence, “What brought you to Pontiac?”

“Oh, nothing specific I guess. I was just passin’ through on a road trip and had some car trouble. It took a few days to get my baby fixed up and I guess I kinda liked the place. Decided to stick around for a while.”

“Interesting. What’s it like being on a road trip?”

“You’ve never been on one?”

“No.”

“Not even in your college days?”

“Not even then.”

“Where did you go to school?”

“Back east. Cornell.”

“Your family is back east and so was school, what brought you to Illinois?”

“A man.”

“No shit?”

“No shit,” replied Cas, his lips stretching to hold back a smile.

“Tell me.”

“There’s not much to tell, Dean, I thought I loved him. He had family in the area and accepted a position here. When he invited me along, I didn’t think twice. I wound up taking a position at the same clinic.”

“Is he still around?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” replied Cas, “You’ve met him. His name is Balthazar.”

“Oh yeah, when I met him, I wondered if you guys were a couple.”

“We haven’t been, not for a long time.”

“But you’re friends?”

“Yes, he’s a very dear friend. But that is all he’ll ever be.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well Dean, as I mentioned before, sometimes getting something is the quickest way to see that you don’t really want it.”   
“Ouch,” chuckled Dean, “Poor Zar.” Dean didn’t pursue that line of discussion any further because he didn’t need to know the details of what had happened between the two men in order to understand the feelings that Cas had about his former flame. Instead, he sat back and sipped his cheap whiskey as he listened to Cas talk of his younger days, his life growing up back east, and even a few funny stories about his life here in Pontiac with his brother as a roommate.

“Did you always want to be a doctor?”

“Yes, Dean, it was always my dream to be a doctor. There’s never been any doubt in my mind about that. I was a bit uncertain as I went through school about what I’d want my specialty to be, but I’ve always wanted to help people. Heal them when they’re broken. Take care of them.”

“Me too,” said Dean. “Maybe not the same way, but yeah. I mean, I practically raised my brother. I protected him from our dad the best I could and made sure he had what he needed. But now that he’s gone, I’m thinkin’ I’d like to do something with my life that helps people instead of just workin’ at the shop or pourin’ drinks at the restaurant.”

“You’ve got a noble heart, Dean. What have you considered doing?”

“I dunno man, it’s probably just a pipe dream. I’ll probably never be anything but a grease monkey or a bar tender. I’d like to save people… but…” Dean’s voice trailed off. He had visions of himself as hero from time to time but those were just daydreams. Deep inside, Dean knew what he was good for. Hustling pool and pouring drinks were really more his skill set.

“I’m a doctor, Dean. But I rarely save a life. I may save someone’s ability to play football, or walk without pain, but I don’t save people every day. Tell me, when you picture someone saving lives, what comes to mind?”

“Um, an ambulance, I guess. I remember the night my mom died… the paramedics, man, they were amazing… even though they couldn’t save her. I think it would be awesome to ride out like that… sirens blaring… be one of those people who charges in and saves the day. That’d be the fuckin’ shit, Cas.”

“Well, Dean, that sounds like something you’re well suited for. What’s stopping you from pursuing that?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged, “everything I just said, I guess. I’m not the brainiac of the family. That’s my little brother. I hated school. Spent most of my classes smokin’ in the boys’ room.”

Cas grinned at him when he said that. “Oral fixation,” he teased flatly.

“There’s worse fixations I could have,” Dean shot back with a smirk.

Dean watched as Cas’s eyes drifted down to his lips and back up. It was so strange. All night long he’d felt like he’d been receiving signals that Cas wanted him and here it was again. A distinct sign that Cas wanted him. A moment ticked by without either speaking, though they were still looking at each other. The atmosphere grew heavy and thick as the silence stretched out. Unable to handle the tension, Dean distracted with another question. “So, you only came here for a dude. Think you’ll move on again? Head back east?”

“I like it here,” replied Cas thoughtfully. “I’ve built a home here. I don’t see myself moving on any time soon. What about you, Dean? Will you be staying in Pontiac, or do you think you’ll wind up back on the road?”

“M’not sure, Cas. But honestly, I think I might be happy here.”

“Might be?”

“Yeah, maybe. I mean, maybe I’m not fully happy just yet, but I think I can feel it comin’. Like, I’ve got friends here who accept me for who I am and that’s kinda new for me. I like my jobs too. I mean, it’s not like I’m livin’ the dream, but I think I’m probably the happiest I’ve ever really been. Hell, maybe someday I’ll even settle down with somebody… maybe even raise a couple of diaper fillers… who knows, right?”

“Diaper fillers,” repeated Castiel, his face breaking into laughter.

“Yeah, man,” chuckled Dean, “shit machines. Trouble causers. Once I get my life all sorted out and running’ smooth, it’ll get boring. I’ll need to spice it up. No better way to do that than pop out a couple carbon copies of my trouble-makin’ ass.”

Still laughing, Castiel leaned forward on his stool and looked at Dean. His eyes were glassy and radiated warmth. “You’ll be a wonderful father, Dean. I’m sure of it.”

“Well,” replied Dean cautiously, “the job’s not for everyone. It sure as fuck wasn’t for my old man.”

“You’ll do it better,” assured Cas confidently, “with the right person.”

Dean warmed at the sentiment and then finished the last of his drink.

“I’ve never really thought much about having kids,” sighed Castiel. I’m not sure why. But maybe I just haven’t met the right person yet… the one that makes me stop and really consider it.”

Dean just couldn’t look at Cas when he said that, because all he could think was, “You fucking fool - that person is me. We’re goddam perfect for each other, can’t you feel it?”

Castiel took a deep breath and continued by saying, “You know, my mother complains about it every Christmas. She says that between Jim’s wandering eye and me being gay, she’s doomed to have no grandchildren.”

Dean’s ability to calmly chat with Cas was tanking. He was so far gone for the man and Cas only seemed to have, at best, a minimal attraction in return. Needing to slink away like an injured dog and lick his wounds, Dean got to his feet and set his glass on the counter. “Well,” he said, trying for levity as he prepared to leave, “If all her hopes are pinned on Jimmy, then I can see why she’s losing hope.”

Cas gave a cursory chuckle and, seeing Dean had risen, he followed suit.

“Well, Cas,” sighed Dean, “thanks for the drinks. It was a great party, man.”

“You’re welcome,” smiled Cas warmly. “I’m glad you stayed for a bit. Let me walk you out.”

Dean nodded and they walked to the door together. He wanted to stay, but he _needed_ to go. He’d never really wanted anyone like this before - with such desperation. Having Cas appear somewhat interested was almost worse than a complete rejection. It kept him hopeful and then disappointed in a dizzying rotation that left him feeling frustrated.

When they reached the door, the doctor leaned in to open it for him.

“I’d like to apologize again, Dean,” he said as Dean made to leave, “for inviting you to stay and watch me shoot a video. I thought you would enjoy it and didn’t mean to make you feel like, how did you say it? Sloppy seconds?”

“Thanks,” chuckled Dean, feeling his cheeks heat up again. “I’m kinda kickin’ myself now for sayin’ no,” he admitted honestly. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back. Fumbling a bit, he added, “I mean, well, let’s just say I appreciate the offer.”

Then, feeling even more awkward than he had during his first attempt to leave, Dean decided to get the hell out before he made this his worst exit in history. As he stepped forward to pass through the doorway, Dean felt the weight of a hand come to rest on his shoulder. His chest fluttered at the contact.

Then, as he stepped over the threshold, that hand slid down his arm and hooked it at the elbow. “Dean,” said Dr. Novak.

Turning back, he was surprised to see Cas step outside into the night with him. The man was still clutching his arm.

“May I kiss you goodnight?”

Once again thrown off balance, but utterly delighted, Dean whispered his agreement without a thought for the consequences. With unfettered joy, Dean leaned in and parted his lips, letting Cas be the one to seal them together. The air was crisp and cold around them, but Dean felt only heat as they sank deeply into the kiss, Dean curling into Cas’s body. Their arms circled around one another and tightened and, for the entire time they were locked together, there was a small and pitiful voice in the back of Dean’s head just begging him to remember every detail. Every touch and every soft sound. This was it, and he knew it. For the first time in his life, Dean Winchester was falling in love. He wished he could have the certainty of knowing that Cas was falling too. But, he’d take what he could get and do his best to be grateful for it.

When they parted, the heavy hand on the back of Dean’s neck kept their faces close for a moment. Slowly opening his eyes from the hazy glow of affection, he saw Castiel’s eyes blink open too.

“Tell me, Dean,” said Cas, “have you found yourself a Dom yet?”

“No.”

“Have you been looking?”

“Not really,” he admitted, dropping his eyes to his feet. It was true. Dean knew who he wanted his Dom to be. In the absence of the one he coveted, Dean preferred to be without.

“When you get home,” husked Cas in his deep voice, “Don’t rush it.”

At first, Dean didn’t know what he meant. He nodded agreement anyway, backing away slowly at first in order to keep Cas in his sights as long as possible before turning to walk towards his car. The wind picked up and gusted heavily as he crossed the yard, its chill chasing away the warmth of their embrace. He was only a few steps from his beloved Impala when the meaning behind Castiel’s words clicked in his head.

Dean smiled as he slid behind the wheel and cranked up some tunes for the drive home. When he got there, he did exactly as the doctor had known he would. He shucked out of his jeans and jerked off. Knowing Dean would do it, Castiel had given Dean an order to take things slowly. And Dean followed that order. He thought of the intimate kiss they’d shared and how it had felt to have Dr. Novak clutching the back of his neck as their tongues slid together.

As he stroked himself alone in the dark, Dean again felt regret for having declined Cas’s offer to watch him in action. But when he was finished, cum drying on the back of his hand, Dean knew he’d made the right decision. He knew what he wanted from Castiel. If he couldn’t have that, then it was better to have nothing.

In the days that followed, Dean did his best to focus on other things and distract himself from thoughts of Cas. It was futile, but he tried. Most of the next week passed as usual until the following Thursday when he received an exciting call from his brother. Sammy confirmed that his holiday visit was a sure thing. Dean could barely contain his joy as he scribbled the dates and flight information on his calendar. When his younger brother asked about his love life, Dean found himself actually telling Sammy about having spent an evening with the man he’d been wanting, including the fact that they’d kissed. Sam updated him on the latest with his girl too and, after the call, Dean rode his emotional high all the way to work. He was just tying his apron when Max stopped by to tell him that he’d received a package and that it was waiting for him in the back office.

Curious what it might be, Dean came out from behind the bar. Thankfully, no one had followed him to the back room because he quickly found this package to be a very private one.

As soon as he caught a glimpse of what was inside, Dean immediately turned to shut the door behind him so no one else would see. Inside were several layers of gold tissue paper which cradled a pair of emerald green silk panties. It was no accident that these panties matched his eyes perfectly and Dean’s heart was racing as he lifted them from the box and imagined himself putting them on… letting Cas watch him do it.

Fuck.

How did the man seem to easily know so many of the things that Dean had always thought he’d hidden so well? He rubbed his anxious cock through his dress pants and silently rebuked it as the traitorous thing threatened to grow hard against his will, right here in the manager’s office.

In the bottom of the box was a single piece of paper. Lifting it out, Dean saw a handwritten note from Castiel. He tucked the panties back in the box and then read what turned out to be an invitation. Cas was shooting another video and he wanted Dean to come. The wording implied that somehow this offer was different than last time, but without clarifying any details. Of the panties, the note said, “I thought of you when I saw these. Please wear them when you come. Tomorrow at seven.”

  

**What should Dean do?**

Accept the invitation and wear the panties as instructed (go to chapter 17)

Decline the invitation explaining that he now realizes that he’s too interested in Cas to willingly share him with another  (go to chapter 18).  

 

 


	17. Seventeen

The rest of his shift ticked by slowly. All Dean could think of was the little box he’d crammed under the front seat of his car. Desperate to hide Castiel’s gift before anyone could see it, he’d hurriedly ducked out back to tuck it away. 

When he returned to his post at the bar, Dean set to work. But his mind wasn’t on the drinks he was mixing or the customers he was serving. Castiel was at the center of his thoughts. Dean could see now that the package he’d been given held far more than just a sexy pair of panties. 

It held the evidence that Castiel was tuned into him like a radio. Dean had already noticed the man’s ability to make very solid guesses about him. It had been obvious when they’d talked at the club. Cas was intuitive about people, probably watching body language while he sifted through their conversation to easily hone in on things that were both said and unsaid. The result had been a near prophetic insight into Dean Winchester and what made him tick. But, for the life of him, Dean couldn’t figure out what clue he’d given Cas regarding his deeply hidden desire to wear panties and other sexy things. 

The urge had been with him since Rhonda Hurley. But those desires weren’t something he indulged, they were his dirty little secret and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. That particular hangup was courtesy of John Winchester, without a doubt. 

Having Cas know Dean’s secret made him feel quite vulnerable. Raw. Exposed. But it also made him feel valuable… like he might actually be worth the time and energy it took to examine him to his deepest layer. It was an oddly unsettling feeling. 

For most of his life, Dean’s value had been in what he was doing for others. He’d been indispensable to his father because he’d done the heavy lifting involved in raising Sam. He’d been the center of Sammy’s world for the same reason. His baby brother looked at him with all the reverence that most children afforded their parents. So, to have someone invest the time and effort to get to know him on an intimate level when he’d done nothing to demonstrate his value to them, well, it was disconcerting to say the least. 

Dean was buzzing under his skin all night long. To be the subject of Cas’s attention even for a few minutes was a thrilling thing. The man was all encompassing. So, the knowledge that Cas’s attention was so fixed on him as to buy and send such a suggestive gift had frayed his nerves to their ends. He was practically vibrating with restless energy by the time he punched out. Even still, he didn’t ride his wave of excitement to the bar with his work friends.

Instead, to calm himself, he drove. Being alone behind the wheel at night with the comforting rumble of his baby’s engine and the drone of tires on asphalt gave Dean the solitude he needed to sort his thoughts. And, by the time he parked his Impala, Dean was sure that he’d made the right decision about the offer he’d received from Castiel. 

Upon returning home, he slid the gift box onto the top of his dresser. Still euphoric, he took a shower to try and calm down. He wanted to wait… not put on the panties until it was time to head over to Cas’s place for filming. But waiting was simply impossible. Sadly, Dean Winchester was an instant gratification junkie. 

With his hair still wet, Dean left the bathroom wrapped in a towel and let it drop to the floor as his hands reached for the box. He gently pulled the small piece of delicate material from its nest of gold tissue paper and held it up, finally able to examine it without fear of discovery. In the amber lamp light of his bedroom, they shone, their satiny texture giving the color a shimmer and shine, an appeal that cotton boxer briefs would just never have. Already a bit thick between his legs, Dean shimmied into his new panties. Tingles accompanied the light material as it slithered up his thighs, over his hairy legs. 

An unsolicited moan slipped from Dean’s lips when he felt his new panties settle into their place, cupping his butt cheeks and cradling them softly. Looking down his torso at his package, Dean was pleased with it. Under the inviting fabric, he was heavy with arousal and his girth protruded from the edge of the fabric in places. 

Sliding his hand down to cup his package, the luxurious feel of what he was holding sent his heart pitter-pattering with excitement. And lust. Dean couldn’t wait to wear this for Castiel. 

As he walked back into the bathroom to check himself out in the mirror there, Dean’s mind was spinning with several possible scenario’s. But all of them led his mind to one place. 

Shaving.

The young men that appeared in Cas’s videos were all smooth like dolphins. The few that had bush, had an artfully trimmed bush. Yeah, if he was to let Castiel look at him in these panties, he’d better do some manscaping.

Having never done the job before, Dean found it to be time consuming and labor intensive. First he had to trim it all with clippers, then go back over it with a razor, not once but twice. Still, he found plenty of spots that he’d missed when he dropped a mirror between his legs. But, the worst part of all was his ass crack. He’d never thought his was especially hairy until he’d seen it contrasted against the soft, smooth, and pale skin of his recently shaven taint. “Yep,” he muttered to himself, “M’gonna need to clear some brush from that ravine.”

Stooping awkwardly and holding his cheeks apart with one hand while trusting his other hand on an uneven surface, with a sharp razor, when he couldn't even see what he was shaving? Nerve racking as fuck. 

When he ran his fingertips over the newly shaven area, his pulse quickened. He hadn’t expected shaving to make him feel so sensual and he found himself exhilarated. But, by the time he was finished, Dean’s neck and shoulders were tense and aching. So was his back. He was ready to call it a day. 

Glancing at the clock, he realized he’d been working on his groin for over ninety minutes. “Next time I’ll just pay to wax that shit,” he huffed to himself as he crawled into bed. 

Being tired and needing to sleep was one thing, but being able to sleep when he felt this sexy was another. Not only was he smooth as a baby’s bottom between his legs, but he was also wrapped in luxurious, sensual lingerie. Yeah, without his pubes, the little panties felt even better on his skin.    
Dean was engorged between his legs despite the unsexy cleanup detail he’d just worked in the bathroom. Tonight, feeling like he did, no porn was necessary go get hard, and he needed no toy to get off. All he had to do was slide his hand down over his dick and feel the strange texture of his veiny cock, wrapped in velvety smooth material, and he was rock hard. Smiling with pride and desire as his palm skated over his manhood, Dean breathed a heavy sigh. The heated crown of his penis had pushed up out of the panties now, though they had managed to stretch wildly in attempt to accommodate his weighty shaft. Writhing between the sheets, Dean worked his hand up and down on himself, enjoying the familiar texture of his skin where it was exposed at the crown, and then the sudden glide as his hand slid onto the material. Rolling his balls while they were tucked inside his unmentionables was incredibly arousing and Dean was enjoying the slow spread of tingles that seemed to pulse from somewhere low and deep in his abdomen. Dean teased himself but only for a hot minute. Sooner than later, his eagerness got away from him and he found himself shoving the panties down to free himself from their confines. Having panties stretched around his thighs was just as salacious as having them cover his genitals and he enjoyed the way they dug into his skin as he spread his legs a little, bent at the knees, and pressed the soles of his feet into the mattress. Using a heavy hand to jerk himself off, Dean blew his load. When he’d finished, he scooched out of the wet spot and curled onto his side. Hiking the panties up from his thighs, Dean laid there for a moment feeling satisfied. But then, for some odd reason, he reached back and tugged down his panties in the back, exposing his bare cheeks to the sheets. If he’d had someone in bed with him, it would have been a blatant invitation to fuck him. But, alone, he had no idea why he’d done it. Or why he chose to stay like that as he fell asleep… his dick and balls tucked into panties and his ass exposed like a longing siren call. 

In the morning, Dean peeled the dainty undies off and put them in the washer. He’d never had cause to use the delicate cycle before, and found himself grinning at the absurdity of enjoying it. After his shower, Dean took the panties from the washer and laid them out to dry. He was so excited about the coming evening that he could barely function. 

Out the door ten minutes later than usual, Dean found himself feeling a step behind all day. He took shit from Bobby for several mistakes that seemed beneath him, took a harsh razzing from Benny for having a ‘glow’ which was utter bullshit, and he tripped over the same case of motor oil three damn times. Then, he wound up having to stay a half hour late to re-count his drawer three times. He’d never been off before… why today?

By the time he was climbing in Baby to drive over to Cas’s place, Dean was a wreck. He’d spent an exorbitant amount of time cleaning himself and far too long choosing what to wear, only to realize that if he got his wish, he’d not be wearing it long anyway. Of all the possible scenarios that had crossed Dean’s mind regarding the coming encounter, the most likely seemed to be that when he watched the video being made, he’d be wearing only the underwear that Castiel had given him for tonight. He shivered as he entertained the thought again, pulling into Dr. Novak’s driveway. There was a windowless van parked on the street… odd… perhaps the cameraman?

Walking to the front door, Dean could feel the panties under his jeans, and his clean shaven groin under the silk. These feelings were still new and quite exciting to him. He rang the bell and waited, heart beating a mile a minute. When Cas opened the door, his jack-hammering heart stopped cold. 

“Hello Dean.”

Okay, beating again.

“Heya Cas.”

“Come in.”

Stepping inside, Dean saw Jimmy sitting on the couch watching television. Panic flared up inside him and he worked to keep his poker face on, reminding himself that there was no way his friend could tell what he was wearing under his pants. 

It was safe to assume that Jim knew what Dean had come here for. Strangely enough, in all his fantasizing about what would happen to him tonight, Dean had never even considered that Jimmy might be around. 

They said hello to each other casually as Dean followed Cas through the living room and towards the hallway, but Dean couldn’t help feeling silly. Jimmy, after all, had laughed out loud at Dean’s interest in his brothers form of sexual expression. “I just wanna get off,” he’d told Dean, “Not cry and beg for it for an hour first.” 

Leaving Jimmy behind, they walked down the hall. As Dean followed Cas, his eyes wandered down from the man’s broad shoulders to his trim waist, accented by his tailored white dress shirt. Entering the bedroom, Dean saw that it was set up already. In the center of the floor was a spanking bench. He’d not seen that particular piece of furniture in any of the doctor’s previous videos, but it didn’t appear to be brand new. He hadn’t even realized he’d been staring at it until Cas stepped up to him and took his hand gently. 

“Dean?” 

“Um, yeah?” he rasped, overwhelmed already and barely able to speak.

“I thought we could go over the scene, if you’d like.”

“Sure,” he said with a note of false confidence that he hoped the man didn’t hear. 

“Perhaps we should sit,” said the doctor, obviously not fooled.

Dean let himself be led by the hand to the doctors oversized bed. Facing one another as they sat down, they each folded one leg causing their knees to touch. “When considering what we’d do tonight,” began Castiel carefully, “I kept in mind your previously disclosed desires to try bottoming, as well as your oral fixation. I have a hunch you’ll enjoy being spanked, but we don’t need to include that in the scene if you’re not interested. I can put away the bench if it overwhelms you.”

“N-No,” he found himself saying, “I think… I think I wanna try it. I just…”

“You thought this would be like all the other videos I’ve done?”

“I guess so. And, honestly, I didn’t know I was gonna... well... I thought I was just watching.”

“I was under the impression that you wanted to be in one of my videos, Dean, but if you’re not inclined-

“I’m inclined,” interrupted Dean. “I’m, yeah man, I’m fucking inclined.”

“If you would prefer to just use a simple chair, we can do that.”

Dean considered this for a moment and then carefully answered, “No. I’d like to try the bench. But, can I ask a question?”

“Of course,” smiled Cas warmly, loosening his tie.

“Why are you doing things differently for this video than the others?”

“Because Dean,” said Castiel with a soft smile, “Those videos were for me. This one is for you.”

Well, fuck. “I-I honestly don’t know what to say,” stammered Dean.

“There’s no need to say anything. But I think I’d like a nice cup of tea before we begin. Would you like one too?”

“Sure,” he said, his sense of humor returning as he began to calm down, “Make mine Irish.”

Cas huffed a laugh and got up from the bed. Left there, Dean continued to try and relax, watching the camera man as he busied himself with adjusting his lights and equipment. When Dean’s host returned, he passed off a steaming cup of tea that smelled enticing but tasted like ass. Determined not to seem ungrateful for the gesture, Dean forced his face to neutrality as he choked the stuff down a few sips at a time. As he did that, Cas was bent over the fireplace coaxing one small flame into a roaring fire before closing the glass doors. 

“That smells great. I love that you have a real wood-burning fireplace instead of a gas one.”

“I am partial to the scent myself,” allowed Cas, returning to sit on the side of the bed with Dean, “though I rarely use it. Honestly, even when I keep the closet closed, my suits pick up the scent.”

Dean bit his lip to keep from saying, “I’d love to smell wood smoke on your neck.”

The crackling of the fire was a nice background sound that continued to relax Dean as he finished his tea. 

“Dean, do you remember your safeword?”

“Impala.”

“What will you say if you start to feel overwhelmed during our scene?”

“Yellow.”

“Do you have any requests? Anything you’d like to include that I haven’t mentioned?”

At this question, Dean’s mind went completely blank. Cas waited patiently and when he’d gathered his thoughts, Dean asked, “What were you planning to spank me with?”

“My hand.”

“No whips or crops or anything?”

“No.”

“You said bottoming. Are you gonna fuck me?”

“No. Even if I thought you wanted me to, that’s not something I’m comfortable adding to the video.”

Dean nodded his agreement.

“I was planning to finger you, and insert a vibrator, or perhaps a dildo. You can look over the toys - they’re on the tray over there by my stool.”

Dean stood on weak knees and walked over to examine Cas’s supplies. As always, there were a few bottles of water, and an abundance of lube. Additionally, Dean noticed the inevitable a cock ring as well as a variety of cylindrical toys in different colors and sizes. As his eyes wandered over to the bench, Dean felt his stomach curl in anticipation. He’d wanted to try this since the first time he’d seen one. And, as if his brain had just come back online, Dean remembered that he was wearing panties. He was going to bend down on that bench in his panties. For Cas. For Dr. Cum Control. 

His eyes darted back to the bed and landed on his gracious host. The man was watching him intently. No doubt he noticed Dean suddenly growing hard, but it seemed likely he’d attribute that to Dean previewing the toys, not the fact that Dean had just realized that Cas would be his Dom for the evening. 

“Excuse me,” said someone behind him. Dean stepped aside, letting the man move past him. He’d completely forgotten the camera guy was even in the room. 

As he lingered ‘on set’, Castiel continued to watch him and Dean slowly grew very comfortable in the man’s gaze. 

“I’m all set when you are Doc,” called the cameraman a few minutes later, and that’s when Cas got up from the bed and walked over to join Dean under the warmth of production lights. 

“We’ll start when you’re ready Dean, not before.”

Clearing his throat, Dean met Castiel’s deep blue eyes and said, “I’m ready.”

“Well then,” said Cas firmly, bringing his hands to rest on his own hips, “Why don’t you let me see those panties.”

Obediently, Dean bent his head and began taking down his pants. Cas reached out, slowly, and hooked one single finger under the edge of Dean’s Henley to lift it, taking a curious peek. The panties were snug on him and Cas was so close that Dean could actually feel it when there was a hitch in the man’s breath. Apparently, the doctor had noticed that Dean was clean shaven as he examined the swollen package that now strained against dark green satin. Dean couldn’t help but smirk.

“I’ll wipe that smirk right off your face, Dean Winchester,” grinned Castiel as he stepped back. 

“Hey,” said Dean honestly, “I know I’m not your type, so I figured the least I could do was trim up for ya.”

Leaning back in, Cas said softly, “You might be more my type than I’d initially thought.”

As a grin slowly spread across Dean’s face, his Dom added, “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Dean tugged his shirt off and piled it with his jeans on a small side table standing nearby. He kicked his boots underneath it with the socks tucked into them and then turned to face the spanking bench wearing nothing but his gift from Castiel. 

“You look delicious, Dean,” said Cas as he gestured for Dean to come towards him. Dean’s heart was back to hammering in his chest as he stepped forward and allowed himself to be pivoted and bent forward over the padded wooden bench.

A shiver skittered wildly up his spine as his elbows and knees found their place, and several more chased after them when restraints were tightened around his wrists and ankles. Testing the limits of his cuffs, Dean found he’d been allowed more range of motion than expected. He couldn’t stand, hell he couldn’t reach his own ass, but he could adjust himself as needed on the bench and if this video was long, which he certainly hoped it would be, he’d be grateful for the ability to reseat himself occasionally. 

When Cas had finished buckling Dean into position, he stood resting his palm on Dean’s flank while he visited briefly with the camera guy about the technical aspects of the shot. Then, with a reassuring squeeze, the doctor took his hand away and went to find his seat. Blocking was in place to keep the camera from accidentally revealing Dean’s face, which he appreciated, but sadly it also kept him from actually seeing Dr. Cum Control. He could hear the subtle squeaking of his little rolling stool as the doctor’s weight shifted on it, and the rustle of material followed by a notable muting of the doctor’s voice which to Dean signaled him having put on his black hood. This was it. It was really happening. 

A wave of giddiness broke over him and for no apparent reason, Dean burst out laughing. He laughed and laughed until tears clouded his eyes and wasn’t able to calm himself until he felt a strong hand settle on his flank again. As the giggles subsided, Dean gasped out, “M’sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

“Your face is incredible when you’re laughing, Dean.” The comment was made in such a warm tone that Dean could hear the smile in it. He carefully maneuvered himself so that he could wipe the moisture from his eyes with the back of his hand. Then, as he settled back into position, Cas said, “What’s your color, Dean?”

“Green,” he answered immediately. “I’m green.”

“Well then,” said the doctor, “Let’s begin. Henceforth you will address me only as Sir and keep talking to a minimum. You will use the color warning system or your safeword as needed without prompting from me. If you need a break, even to use the bathroom, you need only ask. Additionally, if you find yourself interested in urinating while restrained on the bench during our scene, you have my permission to do so. Do you have any questions?”

“No Sir.”

“Good boy,” replied the doctor to Dean. Then, he gave word to the cameraman that it was time to start filming. Dean rested his forehead on the bench while he waited for the first touch. When it came, it was light. Just fingertips ghosting along his thigh and moving upward to trace the line of his panties. This gentle touch seemed to awaken the nerve endings under his skin and sent tingles radiating outward like the spokes of a wheel. 

The pad of one finger dragged along the seam line and eventually slipped under the lustrous material. Dean’s heart was still pounding in anticipation and his breath was hard to control. Thankfully, no one had a view of his face now that the doctor was perched in his place on camera. Feverish excitement swept over him when he felt a second finger beginning to trace the crack of his ass through the panties and, before he could even consider the action, his hips were already rocking, his back arching, his ass preening into the air like a proud peacock. The doctor, well-timed in all things, chose that moment to tug Dean’s panties down over his ass and bare it to the camera. Dean could hear the dull sound of sneakers on hardwood as the videographer moved around to Dean’s other side. Craning his neck, he could see the man now, zeroed in on the action, a light mounted to his camera illuminating Dean’s ass cheeks to show every detail. Not wanting to think about the camera anymore, Dean turned his face forward and focused on the one thing of consequence in his line of sight… a small potted plant. He let himself stare at the pattern on its wide leaves until his gaze grew fuzzy. Paying attention only to what he could feel, Dean moaned as the doctor’s hand reached between his legs to stroke his cock through satin. Still holding his body in it’s anticipatory position, Dean felt the cool air hit his dick as Cas peeled the panties down around his thighs. Dean felt his penis gently maneuvered and his balls handled, then he sucked in a deep breath at the clenching sensation when a cock ring constricted around him. Breathing through the sensation, he also felt himself being manipulated, his shaft bent backwards so that it wouldn’t be under his body on the bench, but rather parallel to his legs where the doctor could play with it.

No one had to ask him to return his torso to the bench so that his dick would stay where Dr. Cum Control wanted it to be. Dean did it instinctively. The reward for his forethought was verbal praise from the doctor.  

For quite some time, Dean was lulled into a peaceful massage-type session where his ass was fondled, his balls were rolled, and his shaft was stroked. Then, when he was quite relaxed, a new sensation was introduced. Slick. 

With a palmful of lube, the doctor began stroking Dean’s cock in earnest, rhythmically alternating between easy languid pulls and bursts of fast and heavy handed ones. Within a few repetitions of this, Dean was already feeling a build in his lower body. Normally, he’d already be fighting to slow himself down - and losing. But tonight, with Cas in charge, Dean didn’t have to argue with himself about coming too soon. He didn’t even have to think at all. He could just feel. With that thought in mind, he allowed his body to move as it wanted, rock with the escalating sensations and come to the brink. Just as he was wondering if Cas was going to let him shoot, all movement stopped. The hands were gone and no one spoke. Dean’s breath was louder to him now, without the squishing sound of lubed hands to drown it out. His anticipation of reaching climax slowly dissipated, but the doctor didn’t wait for Dean’s breathing to return to normal before resuming his work. If his orgasm was at the top of a mountain, Dean was already halfway to the summit when Cas resumed jacking him. This time, however, he didn’t alternate between fast and slow… he kept a maddeningly measured pace. 

After a while, the doc’s other hand cupped his balls and began gently rolling them without breaking the methodical movements of his hand on Dean’s cock. The dual stimulation accelerated Dean’s climb up the metaphorical mountain, but before he’d gotten far, all sensation once again came to an abrupt halt. 

Smiling, Dean relaxed into the soft buzz that seemed to emanate from beneath his skin and waited for the next touch. When it came, its intensity surprised him. Like an arrow hitting a bullseye, the tip of one finger plunged into his dry hole like a missile strike. Dean’s body locked from head to toe and and his cheeks clenched involuntarily. The inserted finger had surprised him, but it had been lubed so aside from a momentary sting, there was no pain. As that finger began to wriggle inside him, Dean found himself enjoying it. Having been caught off guard, Dean’s body seemed unwilling to relax now. It fretted, his fingers and toes twitching. 

With Dean focused on the finger in his ass, Cas had begun working his other hand much faster on Dean’s shaft and before long Dean was once again building steadily towards a climax. “Sir,” he whispered reverently, thrilled with his experience so far, “Sir, Sir, yes Sir.”

A deep chuckle reached Dean’s ears and he loved that Cas sounded happy, like he was enjoying this every bit as much as Dean. Dean forced his heavy eyes open again as Cas began to speak. His blurry eyes landed on the plant again but it’s leaves were just fuzzy green blobs.

“I’m going to spank you when you come,” said the doctor. “Something for you to look forward to.”

“Make me come,” Dean whispered back. “Please, Sir.”

“Patience,” answered the doctor. And then Dean heard a click, followed by the unmistakeable sound of a vibrator buzzing. Dean breathed deeply, assuming he was about to be penetrated with it, but to his surprise, it was held against the crown of his dick instead, the doctor’s single finger remaining his only anal intrusion. Absorbing soft through his tip and feeling them buzz upward through his shaft kicked up the heat in Dean’s groin significantly. Swirling, churning sensations began to grow in the pit of his stomach and his breathing turned heavy as his body’s desire increased. Dean flexed against his restraints for the first time, needing to stretch. It was incredibly satisfying to do so and he found himself doing it more and more as the time ticked by. 

Dr. Cum Control kept him guessing about what he’d feel next as he worked Dean over. With a second finger finally pushing into him from behind, and the doctor’s stroking hand clamping down tighter and tighter, Dean felt the edge approach. Then, to his surprise, he tumbled over it. It was bliss. Undeniable ecstasy and intoxicating euphoria. He’d never come so hard in all his life. 

On the heels of that unholy rapture was a short break. When he’d come down a bit from the high of his mind-blowing orgasm, Dean could hear the doctor splashing water on his hands and dabbing them on a towel. His ears cataloged the sound of things being rearranged on the doctor’s tray and caps being snapped open or closed. Then, as promised, Dean was spanked. His only warning was the weight of a cool palm on his overheated skin. It moved in small circles as it migrated from his flank to the back of his thigh and then up to his left buttock. The weight was gone for the beat of a heart and then returned with force, the healthy smacking sound echoing through the quiet room three times in quick succession. After the first strike, Dean felt nothing. But as his brain processed the sensation, it delivered a painful sting to his cheek which was exacerbated by the subsequent smacks, each harder than the last. Clenching his backside in response, Dean breathed relief when it was over. Surprising himself, Dean felt his body once again act without his permission, cheeks turning themselves upward and seeking more. With his ass pushing back, Dean moaned his request. “Please, Sir,” he panted, “More.”

He should have known he’d be denied. “Not yet,” was the doctor’s answer, “Not yet, but soon. If you’re a good boy.” In striking contrast to the hot sting on the globes of his ass, Dean felt a decadent coolness: a palm coated in lube, or maybe lotion, circling over his cheeks and letting them soak up relief. Readying himself for the next wave of pleasure or pain, Dean adjusted his elbows and knees on his bench, the clinking sound of his restraints bringing a wicked grin to his face. Yeah. Dean was fucking loving this. This, tonight, was the greatest night of his life so far. 

After his ass cheeks had been appeased, the vibration returned, this time not on his cock, but on his ass, riding along his crack. The toy buzzed along, swiping up and down at a lazy pace until Dean bucked his hips. At that point, it slid down between his cheeks and dragged a deep groan of satisfaction from Dean. Again and again it buzzed right over his hole, but never stopped or slowed. It was maddening. Dean thrust his body into it, hoping to encourage it to penetrate him, but it only teased him and showed no mercy. As he flailed in his cuffs and begged for what he wanted with his body, Dean called out for his Dom to no avail. No penetration. However, a steady hand did clamp down on his shaft and start stroking it. “Thank you,” he breathed as he settled his body back down on the bench to enjoy. Dean was vaguely aware that his knees were getting sore despite the padding, but he couldn’t bring himself to care or wonder how much time had really gone by. 

When he’d relaxed, his ass no longer hungrily begging to be speared by a vibrator, that’s when it happened. “Yeah!” he cried out when it happened, “Yeah, Fuck yeah!”

The sound of it was obscene as the tone of the buzzing changed from sharp to muted over and over as it was fucked in and out of him. Dean nearly cried for how good it felt. His eyes had been unfocused for quite some time, slipping closed often, and now, as he was fucked by the buzzing toy, they watered with relief. 

Soon a hand was added and his cock was being stroked in time with the thrusts of the vibrator and he could feel the toy stretching his rim wider with each repetition as it sank in deeper and deeper. The diameter of the toy being used wasn’t large enough to cause him pain with its entry - or perhaps the doctor had teased his hole so much that it had been ready - Dean didn’t know or care. All he knew with certainty was that he loved his Dom. He loved being made to wait and he loved finally getting what he wanted. And, he loved closing his eyes to imagine what he must look like on that goddamned bench… tied down with his ass up in the air, his panties clinging to his thighs, his butt cheeks pink from his spankings, and a brightly colored vibrator stuffed up his ass. And then, with that image in his mind, Dean felt his stomach drop and his limbs tighten as he burst again. He knew he’d spattered his bench a second time, and wondered if he’d be spanked again as he enjoyed the rolling waves of pleasure that seemed to go on far longer than usual. 

When he became aware of sight and sound again, Dean realized that the vibrator wasn’t buzzing anymore. It was still there, his asshole clenching around it, but it was still and silent inside him. The room was equally quiet, the only sound was his own breathing and the occasional pop the firewood as it was consumed nearby. Dean didn’t speak, he just froze there, eyes unseeing and body waiting for what would come next. 

The palm of a hand was what came next. Ah-ha. A spanking was coming. 

Finding himself surprisingly aroused for someone who’d just come twice, Dean leaned back against his restraints, putting all his weight into the action as he backed his ass up into that hand and waited for the snap of delicious pain it would dole out to him. 

As it was happening, that’s when Dean remembered that he was still stuffed with a toy. Being full like that while receiving a firm swat from a bare hand was incredible. His asshole jerked and twitched, raw with overuse, and Dean could feel a slow dribble of cum bead up around his slit as his brain processed that his hole was fucked out.  _ Someday _ , he thought,  _ someday I’m gonna come like this with a real dick in me. God help me, I hope it’s his. I hope it’s Castiel fucking me when my time comes. _

Feeling the vibrator extracted was a relief, despite the fact that he’d very much enjoyed the experience of it. 

Dean rested his torso on the bench, and noted the feeling of his ass being wiped up. It must be break time. The sounds of Dr. Cum Control cleaning his hands and toys was lost on Dean as he rested. He faded out for a moment, falling asleep and then jerking awake again. Shit. Was that really something that happened? Did people actually fall asleep on one of these contraptions? Dean didn’t think so. Perhaps he’d expended himself more than he’d realized tonight. Taking stock of himself, Dean realized that he was exhausted, and that his stomach now carried a dull ache. His knees were aching and so were his arms and neck.

When Castiel returned his hands to Dean, it was to stroke his cock lovingly. Sweetly. His free hand rubbing Dean’s thigh, his back, even his calf. Through all of this, with the help of the ring, Dean had been hard as a rock. When the doctor covered his hands in fresh lube and laid them on Dean, they felt cool against his feverish skin and he smiled as he enjoyed the contrast. Slowly, the leisurely stroking became more purposeful and Dean’s arousal began to build again. He could feel his body starting to respond to the pleasure, his aches and pains falling from notice as his pleasure swelled. Squirming on his bench, Dean moaned softly to his Dom saying, “One more… S’all I’ve got.”

A reassuring pat on his lower back was his only response, and then both hands were intently focused on bringing Dean another orgasm. One hand gave his cock steady pumps while the other moved busily from balls to crack and back again before sinking several fingers back into Dean’s aching hole. They spread him wider and pressed in deeply to curl forward and nudge that place within that set a pleasurable swirling sensation in motion at the very pit of his stomach. With his cock in Cas’s hand and his hole stretched over massaging fingers, Dean felt himself getting ready for release… his arms stiffened to lock his body in position, his hips rocked to push his weighty cock down into that waiting fist. And then, there was nothing. 

“Dammit,” he cursed, realizing that despite Dean’s desperation, Cas would never let it be that easy. “Fuck,” he cursed belligerently. “What the fuck?”

A sharp snap cut through the room and a burning sensation spread over his butt cheek. Dean recognized this for what it was. Discipline. Unlike the other spankings, this one carried the doctor’s disapproval and Dean felt it to his core. Sorrow and regret filled him and his chin quivered as real tears began to dribble from his eyes.

“M’sorry Sir,” he pleaded honestly. “Please, Sir. M’sorry.”

Forgiveness was every bit as swift and immediate as punishment had been, lovingly meted out by firm hands. They abandoned his sex organs completely and proceeded to massage Dean’s aching muscles starting with his back and then moving down each thigh before returning to the meat of his ass where they worked more erotically, the push and pull and drag of the motions tugging at Dean’s pucker… a new sensation. 

Soon there were slick fingers bumbling over his hole, teasing but not entering as a hand snaked down to start working his shaft again. Once more, Dr. Cum Control brought him to the brink and stopped before finally letting Dean come one last time. Weary with exhaustion, he could hardly hold his head up when he was finally released from his bindings. 

“Lil help?” he joked, as he reached for Cas’s hand. Getting across the room to the bed was enough to make his weak legs want to give out. 

Depositing him there, Cas whispered, “I’ll be right back, sleep if you like.”

“Not a problem,” he whispered, letting go of consciousness without further consideration. When he was awakened again, the room was clear. No camera guy, no equipment, no bench. Just a large bedroom that was cosy with firelight and the smoky scent of burning wood. He didn’t remember rolling over, but he must’ve because he was now on his stomach. He’d been cleaned up. To his utter delight, he realized that Castiel was now with him on the bed. The doctor’s attentive hands were no longer slick with lube but were clean and dry and expertly massaging his limbs. 

Turning his head, so he could see the man’s face, Dean wanted to say that the session had been incredible. But with his body so weary, all that came out was, “You’re incredible.” At first, he regretted saying something so damn cheesy. But when Cas smiled at him, Dean realized he didn’t care.

“You enjoyed it.” It wasn’t a question.

“Best. Ever.” 

“Would you like to sleep over?”

“Yeah. Thanks Cas.”

“My pleasure.”

Dean lost track of time as Cas cared for him. He shook off his stupor when Cas asked him to sit, taking the water bottle he was given and chugging it thirstily before dropping back down into the bed. The next time he was asked to move, it was because Cas was crawling into bed with him it was time to get under the covers. As he crawled obligingly under, he was handed another bottle, juice this time, and he drank that down too. Then, he closed his eyes and let himself be swaddled into Castiel’s arms, the man’s hand softly carding through his hair. Enjoying it, but unable to stay awake any longer, Dean let the world slip away from him and descended into peaceful sleep. 

When he woke, it was to an irritating sound and he sat up to look around, having forgotten where he was. 

The motion of pulling himself upright strained about ten sore muscles at once and that was Dean’s reminder that he’d been shackled to a wooden spanking bench for an indeterminable number of hours last night. A smile spread over his face as he remembered how good it had been, and that he’d been invited to sleep there after. The grinding sound that was annoying him from the kitchen was a blender and Dean decided to head out there. Swinging his legs out of bed, Dean found that he was nude. Working out the kinks as he went, Dean walked over to the small side table where his clothes were still sitting and he put them on. 

It wasn’t pleasant going commando, but his little green number was nowhere to be found and probably too nasty to wear anyway. 

Shuffling out into the hall, Dean was glad to see Jimmy’s door still closed. He really didn’t want the guy to see his face right now. It would just be too telling. 

“Good morning, Dean,” greeted Cas when he entered. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. That’s one smooth talkin’ mattress you’ve got, Cas.”

“Indeed.”

Gesturing Dean towards a seat at the breakfast bar, Cas poured them each a glass of something green and unappealing and then sat down next to him. “What’s in this?” Dean asked. 

“I’m going to guess that it’s better not to give you the whole list,” teased Cas with a straight face, “but it should taste like peach.” Taking a sip, Cas nodded and said, “Peach.”

Trusting that he’d not be choking down kale flavored mush, Dean took a tentative sip. He was surprised. Peach. Maybe a hint of sour apple. “S’good,” he said, going in for a much bigger swallow the second time. 

“How are you feeling this morning?”

“Real good, Cas. Had the best damn night of my life last night.”

“The best, Dean?” questioned Cas, turning those captivating blue eyes on him.

“You know it was,” answered Dean honestly. There was no point in playing dating games here. Cas was far too intuitive for that anyway. 

“I still enjoy hearing you say it,” chuckled Cas, taking another swallow. Dean drank too, surprisingly awake considering how early it was. The rays of the sun, which filtered in through the kitchen windows were shining in at such an extreme angle that it had obviously not risen too long ago.

When Dean’s eyes wandered back to Castiel, the man was staring at him intently and he said, “I’d like to see you again, Dean.”

Unable to suppress his smile, Dean nodded and said, “You know I’m in.”

“Do you mean to say that you’re interested in making another video, or that you’re interested in dating me?” 

“Both,” clarified Dean. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like you to be my Dom too.”

“Exclusively?”

Dean hesitated, his desire for honesty battling with his fear that exclusivity would be a deal-breaker for Dr. Novak. But, he went ahead and put it out there, hoping for the best. “Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, I’d prefer that,” he said candidly, “if you’re willing.”

“So,” smiled Cas, leaning back, “You’d like me to be your Dom and date you exclusively?”

“Yeah,” he said, with more confidence than he felt.

“Well, alright then,” said Cas with a soft smile. 

Dean was happy enough to jump up and down. But, honestly, he could barely move. Every muscle and joint was stiff and sore. He settled for tipping back his glass of thick green breakfast. When he’d set down his drink, Dean looked over at his new boyfriend. His  _ first _ boyfriend. His first  _ Dom _ . So many firsts. “I thought I wasn’t your type?” he teased lightly, bumping Cas’s shoulder with his own. 

“Whoever I’m attracted to is my type, Dean. And presently that seems to include bow-legged, cocky men with green eyes and freckles.”

“Thank god I shaved my nards, man, cause it seems like that’s what made the difference, right?”

Laughing along, Cas leaned in and kissed Dean’s stubbly cheek. The affection afforded in the gesture sent Dean’s heart into an uneven rhythm and made him feel squishy inside. 

After they’d finished in the kitchen, the men migrated back to the bedroom and crawled back under the covers. No one had said it outloud, but it was obvious that they both wanted sex. “I can’t believe,” whispered Dean as he curled up against Castiel’s body, “that you never even got off last night.”

“The hell I didn’t,” laughed Dean’s blue-eyed lover, “the minute you fell asleep, I rubbed one out.”

“Shoulda woken me,” he retorted, “I coulda helped.”

“Help me now,” husked Cas, turning his body so that his dick was resting on Dean’s hip. 

“Anytime,” replied Dean as he slipped beneath the covers to suck his man off. Their sex that morning wasn’t a long, drawn out affair. It wasn’t a scene. It was just two men, wanting to be with one another. 

Dean loved sucking dick, and Cas had a damn nice one. Besides, his mouth was the only part of Dean’s body that hadn’t been overused. 

Cas seemed to appreciate Dean’s efforts and was quite vocal about what pleased him. The two of them took their time, but didn’t drag it out either. When Cas did blow his load, his fingers were clenched into Dean’s hair, holding his head still as he spilled down the back of Dean’s throat. 

Overcome with lust, Dean started pulling himself eagerly as he was man-handled and soon spurted into the sheets with a groan of satisfaction.

Dean’s collective dating history was comprised mostly one-nighters and back room hookups. Actually being exclusive with someone? That was completely new territory and their first few dates were full of possible disasters… like the first time they walked through a door together. Dean suddenly realized that he had no idea which of them was meant to open the door for the other. Cas leaned in and did it and the wicked grin that he kept locked into a straight line as it happened made Dean wonder if the man could read his mind. For Dean, being in a relationship with another man meant he had to learn to define himself in new terms. It wasn’t easy, but Castiel’s calm and reassuring presence helped ease him through it. Occasionally, the hard line of his father’s over-simplistic views would start creeping in to make Dean feel unworthy or insecure. But it happened less and less as he grew more accepting of himself. 

Sadly, in this new version of his life, the one where he was dating a man, and a doctor nonetheless, there were many chances for him to feel awkward and unsure. Being a man on the arm of another man, for instance, at a black-tie benefit cocktail party. Being dolled up in a tailored tux had actually been fun. And seeing the blatant hunger in Castiel’s eyes as Dean wore that tux was quite thrilling. But, at the party, Dean had felt as out of place as a whore in a convent. 

Everyone, he thought, was staring at him. Whispering about him. It was as if they knew his snazzy clothes were a farce… that he was just a blue collar guy playing dress up and pretending to be one of them. The feeling was startlingly similar to being a kid dressed up on Halloween. He’d been Han Solo one year… but everyone had known that he really wasn’t. On the way to this event, he’d felt like James Bond in the slick tux that Cas had bought him, but upon arrival he’d suddenly had the feeling that everyone could see his outfit was nothing but a costume. 

Castiel had noticed quickly that Dean wasn’t comfortable. True to form, he also seemed to magically know why and what to do about it. Cas had stayed by his side and navigated him easily through all his interactions. The men circulated the room together, carrying their little plates of food, and stopping often to chat with Dr. Novak’s colleagues, friends, and acquaintances. 

As they were mingling, Castiel told Dean a story about coming to this event for the first time as Zar’s date. He joked about the man spilling something down his shirt and gave Dean an easy laugh. But in telling that story, he’d also given Dean a gentle reminder that this crowd was used to seeing Cas with a man on his arm. That knowledge went a long way towards calming Dean’s fears that people were staring at him and whispering about him. Perhaps, Cas had later hinted, people were talking about him only because he’d looked far better on Cas’s arm than any other ever had. 

“And that,” whispered Castiel, “is nothing but truth.”

Dean blushed a little under the compliment, but these days, he was no longer trying to hide his face when that happened. He knew Cas enjoyed seeing his cheeks tinge pink, much the same way he enjoyed seeing Dean’s  _ other  _ cheeks burn with color.

By the end of the party, Dean was relaxed and joking with people as he helped himself to seconds of the foods he’d enjoyed. The fact that Dean had been able to relax like that was all because of Cas. The man had never been so invasive as to ask Dean what was troubling him at the beginning of the evening. Instead, he’d paid very close attention and figured it out for himself. Then, without drawing attention to the issue, he had soothed it away. The man was incredible. 

The best part of dating Castiel, though, was the sex. Without a doubt, the man rocked Dean’s world. It didn’t take long for him to find out that edging wasn’t the doctor’s only BDSM practice. As their relationship grew, they came to spend more nights and weekends together and the men eagerly worked their way through almost every toy in Castiel’s massive hutch. Dean found that he really liked most all of them and that at the hands of his lover, there was no sensation he didn’t want to feel. 

Plus, Castiel watched him so intently that he’d never actually had to safeword. The man just seemed to know when Dean was reaching his threshold. He’d encourage Dean, giving him the strength to continue, and then stop shortly after. That pattern seemed to insure that Dean always finished his scenes feeling brave and triumphant. And Cas would then smother him with praise. 

Dean loved his aftercare, attention whore that he was, eating up the man’s gentle ministrations and not feeling bad about it either - because he’d earned it. He’d never even imagined being so completely and exhaustively satisfied in his sex life. He’d also never slept better in his life, secured in the man’s strong arms and comfy in his huge bed.

Days passed into weeks and when Sammy visited for the holidays, Cas was introduced to him with the label of boyfriend. It seemed a strange term to Dean’s ears. After all, Cas was no boy. But, social constructs being what they are, ‘virile and satisfying man-friend’ seemed stranger, if not more honest. 

Sharing Christmas with Sam, away from their father, gave the brothers a chance to do things the way they wanted and start their own traditions. It was the best holiday Dean could ever remember them having. A few nights out with Cas while Sam was visiting gave them all the chance to get to know each other better and Dean was pleased to see a genuine friendship developing between his brother and his boyfriend. When the day came to drop off Sam at the airport and say their good-bye’s, Dean didn’t stiffen when his exuberant brother hugged him too tightly. In fact, he hugged back. 

Then, in the days following Sam’s visit, Cas was a comfort for Dean as he got used to his apartment once again being empty and quiet.

Under Cas’s care, Dean found himself encouraged to slow down his eating, his drinking, and his spending. Cas seemed to be a believer in positive reinforcement and Dean was stunned by how responsive he was to his boyfriends ways. For example, the earnest nod of approval that Dean got from Cas when he put away dessert after one slice was worth six more slices.

Castiel was never bossy or domineering in their relationship. He was firm, yes, but never overbearing and the merging of their lives was easy and natural, like putting on a favorite pair of jeans that always fit perfectly. 

  
  
  


**Go to chapter 19**

 


	18. Eighteen

The rest of his shift ticked by slowly. All Dean could think of was the little box he’d crammed under the front seat of his car. Desperate to hide Castiel’s gift before anyone could see it, he’d hurriedly ducked out back to tuck it away. 

When he returned to his post at the bar, Dean set to work. But his mind wasn’t on the drinks he was mixing or the customers he was serving. Castiel was at the center of his thoughts. Dean could see now that the package he’d been given held far more than just a sexy pair of panties. 

It held the evidence that Castiel was tuned into him like a radio. Dean had already noticed the man’s ability to make very solid guesses about him. It had been obvious when they’d talked at the club. Cas was intuitive about people, probably watching body language while he sifted through their conversation to easily hone in on things that were both said and unsaid. The result had been a near prophetic insight into Dean Winchester and what made him tick. But, for the life of him, Dean couldn’t figure out what clue he’d given Cas regarding his deeply hidden desire to wear panties and other sexy things. 

The urge had been with him since Rhonda Hurley. But those desires weren’t something he indulged, they were his dirty little secret and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. That particular hangup was courtesy of John Winchester, without a doubt. 

Having Cas know Dean’s secret made him feel quite vulnerable. Raw. Exposed. But it also made him feel valuable… like he might actually be worth the time and energy it took to examine him to his deepest layer. It was an oddly unsettling feeling. 

For most of his life, Dean’s value had been in what he was doing for others. He’d been indispensable to his father because he’d done the heavy lifting involved in raising Sam. He’d been the center of Sammy’s world for the same reason. His baby brother looked at him with all the reverence that most children afforded their parents. So, to have someone invest the time and effort to get to know him on an intimate level when he’d done nothing to demonstrate his value to them, well, it was disconcerting to say the least. 

Dean was buzzing under his skin all night long. To be the subject of Cas’s attention even for a few minutes was a thrilling thing. The man was all encompassing. So, the knowledge that Cas’s attention was so fixed on him as to buy and send such a suggestive gift had frayed his nerves to their ends. He was practically vibrating with restless energy by the time he punched out. Even still, he didn’t ride his wave of excitement to the bar with his work friends.

Instead, to calm himself, he drove. Being alone behind the wheel at night with the comforting rumble of his baby’s engine and the drone of tires on asphalt gave Dean the solitude he needed to sort his thoughts. And, by the time he parked his Impala, Dean was sure that he’d made the right decision about the offer he’d received from Castiel. 

He walked slowly and calmly into his apartment with his package. Depositing it on his bed, he removed the handwritten invitation from the box and sat down at his desk. Picking up a pen, he proceeded to write a response.

 

_ Cas, _

_ Thanks for the gift. I want to come over tomorrow, but I’m not going to. I know I sound like a broken record here, but I just don’t see the point. Coming over to watch will just give me a close up view of what I want but can’t have. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just watch your videos online like the other fans. Don’t worry about your secrets. They’re safe with me, as I hope mine are with you. _

_ Dean _

When he’d finished, he rose from his chair and walked back out to his car. She rumbled pleasingly under him as he guided her out onto the street and across town to Castiel’s house. He had no idea if the doctor was home, but Jimmy was likely still out with their friends. The place was dark. Not even exiting his car, Dean rolled up to the mailbox and slid in the envelope, knowing that Cas would be the one to find it.

Then, he headed back to his place. He was surprisingly numb, considering how miserable he should have felt as he nursed his unrequited crush. His consolation prize? Satin panties that matched his eyes. Tossing his clothes to the corner, Dean stepped up to the bed and slid into the first pair of panties he’d ever owned. They felt sinfully soft as he slid them up over his buttocks and wriggled his endowments into the small piece of material that covered his groin. Walking to the bathroom, he was irritated to see lines around his ankles where his socks had been. But they didn’t lessen his enjoyment as he flicked on the light in his little bathroom and examined his body. 

Holding tension in his abs, as he often did when other people were looking, Dean now posed for himself. He turned from side to side slowly, watching the way his hip bones moved under the sheer fabric. He smiled, a sense of satisfaction and pride creeping up on him as he watched his manhood grow and strain at the fabric. He had a nice package, he knew that. But it was really something to see it swell until it was too large for the panties and literally burst out around the edges. 

“Yeah,” he whispered to himself, “that’s some talent, right there.” With a wicked grin stretched across his face, Dean flicked out the light and headed to bed. Leaving his lamp on, Dean crawled between the sheets. Doing so had never been such a sensual experience before. Dean stretched his body into several different poses, feeling the panties hug him as he did. 

He imagined, for one blissful moment, that Castiel was here with him and watching. Touching. Enjoying the gift he’d given. With that thought in mind, Dean flung himself from the bed and clawed through the discarded pants on his floor. When he found his phone, he opened it’s camera mode and began snapping pictures of himself in a variety of poses until he found one that seemed more enticing than the rest. Before he could lose his nerve, Dean went to his computer and uploaded that one picture. He attached it to an email and in the memo line he wrote, ‘a gift from a fan’.

Between the panties, a dildo, and some porn, Dean managed to have a damn decent night. 

In the days that followed, he tried to focus on the positive and keep his chin up. Dean might not have gotten his man, but it would seem that he’d at least turned the man’s head. It was a small consolation, but it helped. Additionally, he now knew that he was ready for a partner. From now on, rather than being on the lookout for the easy bar hookups, Dean would focus on just finding a person he felt connected to… someone he’d want to date. 

Falling asleep at night wasn’t easy, because in the silence he could still hear his heart screaming for Castiel. But, in the daytime at least, Dean was able to stay positive. And at night, he could get a little help from his friend Jack Daniels. 

It had been almost a week since he had received the panties when Dean got a text message from an unknown number. 

“Have you watched my latest video?”

It had to be Castiel. First, Dean saved the number to his contacts. Then, he responded with a joke, hoping to keep things light between them. 

“Nope. I’m not a masochist.”

The response was immediate. And surprising.

“Watch the video, Dean.”

Dean’s body responded viscerally to the order, wanting to obey. He scurried up from his comfy position on the couch, leaving the television on as he darted to his room. In his haste, Dean flew right past his light switch. He didn’t bother with a lamp either, opting to head straight for his computer in the dark. The handful of seconds spent waiting for the site to come up were agony and as his mind spun with the possible reasons he’d been asked to watch, Dean busied himself with shucking off his jeans in the dark and pulling his panties from the top drawer of his dresser. He was shimmying into them when the homepage of Dr. Cum Control’s site finally filled the screen. Selecting the most recent thumbnail, Dean sat back on the edge of his bed to watch it. 

For the first few minutes, Dean saw no reason for him to be watching except that he was a horny bastard. The subject of the video was restrained, and his lean body was receptive to the doctor’s touch. Dean, as always, watched the hands of Dr. Cum Control with rapt attention. They smoothed over the erect shaft of the Sub, shiny with lube and already darkening at the tip. Then, there was a pause. And it wasn’t like the usual pauses that the doctor gave for rest. It was a long pause and then Dean heard a deep voice say, “Cut.” 

Apprehensive, Dean’s eyes searched the screen for some hint of color or movement but they found only blackness. A few seconds ticked by before the screen lit up again, and when it did, the room looked different. For starters, the only thing on camera was the doctor, visible from his waist down, seated in a chair. Dean had never, ever seen Dr. Cum Control in the center of the screen before. The restrained Sub was always the focal point without exception. The doctor had always hovered on the periphery, his hands the co-star of his films, not his body or his face. In the current shot, he was still anonymous, his dark pants and plain dress shirt nondescript and his upper body completely out of the shot. But, to Dean, his identity was obvious. No one had hands like Castiel. His long, nimble fingers were likely an asset in surgery, but Dean thought they were an even greater asset to a lover. 

A moment passed before the camera backed off a bit, clearly trying to adjust the shot. Once the camera came to its resting point and went still, the two knees shown in the frame spread slowly apart. Dean’s heart was beating a mile a minute as he wondered what was about to happen. Then, slowly, a sign was pulled into the frame. It was held between the doctor’s two hands and brought to hover between his knees. It said ‘Thank you’. A beat later, that sign was dropped, only to reveal that there was another behind it. Dean smiled as he realized what was happening. He’d seen plenty of video’s like this online. A person, usually silent, stood holding up an entire narrative, only to reveal it as a string of phrases, revealed one at a time. It forced the viewer to lean in and pay attention to what was being said. The tactic was very ‘Cas’.

Dean read the signs as they were shown…

 

_ Thank you _

_ To my loyal viewers _

_ It has been fun _

_ Creating videos for you _

_ And I hope  _

_ You have enjoyed  _

_ Watching them _

_ As much as I _

_ Enjoyed _

_ Making them  _

_ But, the time has come _

_ For me to retire. _

 

Dean’s heart skipped a beat when he read that card. “Retire?” he gasped aloud, “What the fuck?” Even as he was speaking, the next card was revealed. Dean continued reading, hating the way time seemed to drag between sentence fragments.

 

_ You see… _

_ I’ve found  _

_ Someone special _

_ And he  _

_ Doesn’t want _

_ To share me _

 

Reading that card sent a swell of joy and hope running through Dean’s body, the likes of which he’d never felt before. Still, the cards were falling, each revealing a new message as the old one dropped to the ground. Cas was still speaking, in his way, and though the message was addressed to Dr. Cum Control’s many viewers, it was clearly intended solely for Dean Winchester.

 

_ I will post a new video _

_ If he ever _

_ Wants to star in one _

_ But my days _

_ Of anonymous sex _

_ Are over _

_ If he is watching _

_ And i suspect that he is _

_ I hope he knows... _

_ That I am... _

 

Dean shifted in his seat as he waited impatiently for the next card. Cas was… what? Sorry? Available? Horny? What? What? Next card please! 

The moment seemed to drag on way too long… that’s when Dean realized that Cas, true to his nature, was making Dean wait. He smiled in appreciation and relaxed on his bed, content to be kept waiting but only by this particular man. When the next card was revealed, Dean felt like his breath had been knocked out of him. 

_ Falling in love. _

The card said ‘falling in love.’ Dean’s heart leapt and he could feel its subsequent beats pounding heavily against his ribcage from the inside. His pulse was racing and the roar of the blood in his veins was all he could hear as Dean sat there, in his gifted panties, and let the knowledge wash over him. Cas was falling in love.

“Me too,” he whispered into the dark. 

His own voice breaking the silence was all that was needed for his trance to break. The video was over, reduced back down to a thumbnail, just one of many on the screen right now. In a heartbeat, Dean was moving. He bolted for his phone, which had been left on the coffee table in his haste to come watch this video. Scooping up the device, Dean texted his words to Castiel. “Me too.”

And that was how Dean Winchester wound up dating Dr. Castiel Novak. Of course, Dean’s collective dating history was mostly one-nighters and back room hookups. Actually dating someone? That was completely new territory and their first few dates were full of possible disasters. For example, the first time they walked through a door together: with anyone else, an awkward moment may have occurred as Dean suddenly realized that he had no idea which of them was meant to open the door for the other at the restaurant. But the doctor, always in control, leaned in and did it as if he was meant to do it. The wicked grin that he kept locked into a straight line as it happened made his blue eyes gleam, and Dean felt his heart skip a beat as he walked past the man to enter. 

As the two of them stepped up to the hostess stand together, Dean had been thinking about how it felt to have the door opened for him. It was a strange sensation because he’d always been taught that was something a man did for a lady - especially on a date. But he wasn’t a lady. Neither was Castiel. What was considered polite? As Cas had laid a reassuring hand on the small of his back, the man’s easy confidence seemed to radiate over to him. His apprehension faded and he soon realized that he was overthinking things. It was as they were being led to their table that he reassured himself that the first one to a door should open it. Period. No need to worry about the social graces of it all. That stuff was all just bullshit anyway. 

It wasn’t easy learning to define himself in new terms, but with Castiel’s calm and reassuring presence nearby, Dean found that he was surprisingly comfortable carving out his own construct of how to move about in society, and then living by it. Occasionally, the hard line of his father’s over-simplistic views would start creeping in to make Dean feel unworthy or insecure. But it happened less and less as he grew more accepting of himself. 

Sadly, in this new version of his life, the one where he was dating a man, and a doctor nonetheless, there were many chances for him to feel awkward and unsure. Being a man on the arm of another man, for instance, at a black-tie cocktail party. Being dolled up in a tailored tux had actually been fun. And, seeing the blatant hunger in Castiel’s eyes as Dean wore that tux had been quite thrilling. But, at the party, Dean had felt as out of place as a whore at church. 

Everyone, he thought, was staring at him. Whispering about him. It was as if they knew his snazzy clothes were a farce… that he was just a blue collar guy playing dress up and pretending to be one of them. The feeling was startlingly similar to being a kid dressed up on Halloween. He’d been Han Solo one year… but everyone had known that he really wasn’t. On the way to this event, he’d felt like James Bond in the slick tux that Cas had bought him, but upon arrival he’d suddenly had the feeling that everyone could see his outfit was nothing but a costume. 

Castiel had noticed quickly that Dean wasn’t comfortable. True to form, he also seemed to magically know why. The balm for Dean’s open wounds, Cas had stayed by his side and navigated him easily through all his interactions. 

Best of all, the doctor had found clever ways to set Dean at ease again and again. As they’d moved through the buffet line, for example, he’d kept up a running commentary that felt like easy, natural conversation. But, in reality, he was helping Dean with the use of an overwhelming selection of unfamiliar pretentious foods and the utensils needed to serve and eat them.

“Oh those are delicious,” Castiel had said, leaning in to dish up some questionable looking meatballs, “I look forward to these all year… it’s the only reason I come to this event.” Dean smiled as Cas plopped a heaping spoonful of them on both of their plates, and then skewered a few toothpicks into them so they could be eaten while walking around. Dean never would have thought of that. 

“Is that what I think it is?” Dean asked, doing his best to gesture without pointing.

“Caviar,” nodded his man, “It’s disgusting. No one likes it. But they feel privileged when they choke it down. Isn’t it nice to be one of the people who is immune to that kind of social falsity?”  

Glancing around him, Dean nodded in the affirmative and gladly stepped past the dish with Cas, neither of them bothering to feign interest.

“Oh look,” said Castiel, calling Dean’s attention past a tower of ornate looking hors d'oeuvres that made him want to cringe and bringing his eyes to rest on a platter of bacon wrapped shrimp. “I love these. Would you like one?”

Dean nodded and held out his plate, nodding agreement as Cas used a delicate pair of miniature tongs to add several to his plate.

The food had looked quite intimidating when they’d stepped up to the line, but, when they’d finished, Dean found himself standing there with a plate of food he was glad to be eating instead of a selection of things he’d have to choke down to be polite. His man stood with him for a moment, surveying the room, and proceeded to smoothly draw Dean’s attention to the fact that most of the people here were also ‘costumed’ as he was. He was far too clever to say it so plainly, but as the evening progressed, Dean caught Castiel reassuring him constantly without drawing attention to Dean’s perceived inadequacies. 

“Ah, there’s a familiar face,” commented Cas as he nibbled.

“Where?” asked Dean, trying to follow his man’s eyes.

“The brunette over there talking to Zar?”

“I should know her?” he asked, popping a meatball into his mouth.

“Her name is Meg.”

Still chewing, Dean looked the lady up and down. Her gown was stunning and her hair was perfectly spun into a fancy twist that wrapped around her neck and curled over one shoulder. She appeared quite glamourous. 

“She was at my birthday party. I’m surprised you don’t remember her. She was flirting with you when we were watching beer-pong in the garage.”

Swallowing his mouthful of savory meatball, Dean leaned over and said, “I’m not surprised. I only had eyes for one person at your party.”

Cas smiled warmly at Dean’s admission. An unfettered, unrestrained smile was rare for the man and it was impossible not to appreciate them whenever they appeared. Cas glanced back at the glamorous woman across the room and said, “She works at my clinic. She used to be a sales rep at the Verizon Store but then she went to Nursing School. She doesn’t like being a nurse though, it’s easy to tell.”

Wondering what the point of the story was, Dean looked questioningly at Castiel. 

“She became a nurse for one reason, Dean, to meet and marry a doctor.”

“Damn,” he whispered, ducking his head to pop another piece of meat in his mouth. 

“I bet she’s spent a month’s pay on that dress,” joked the doctor. “She’s fishing.”

The men circulated the room with their little plates of food, stopping often to chat with Dr. Novak’s colleagues, friends, and acquaintances. 

As they were mingling, Castiel told Dean a story about coming to this event for the first time as Zar’s date. He joked about the man spilling something down his shirt and gave Dean an easy laugh. But in telling that story, he’d also given Dean a gentle reminder that this crowd was used to seeing Cas with a man on his arm. That knowledge went a long way towards calming Dean’s fears that people were staring at him and whispering about him. Perhaps, Cas hinted, people were talking about him a little, if only to privately suggest that he looks far better on Cas’s arm than any other man ever had. 

“And that,” whispered Castiel, “is nothing but truth.”

Dean blushed a little under the compliment, but these days, he was no longer trying to hide his face when that happened. He knew Cas enjoyed seeing his cheeks tinge pink, much the same way he enjoyed seeing Dean’s  _ other  _ cheeks burn with color.

All night at Dean’s first black tie event, Cas cut through the crowd with him, introducing him to people, and then giving him the skinny on them later. He told Dean which folks were kind-hearted and which were social climbers or gold diggers, which doctors were talented and which were hacks. 

By the end of the party, Dean was relaxed and joking with people as he helped himself to seconds of the foods he’d enjoyed. The fact that Dean had been able to relax like that was all because of Cas. The man had never been so invasive as to ask Dean what was troubling him at the beginning of the evening. Instead, he’d paid very close attention and figured it out for himself. Then, without drawing attention to the issue, he had soothed it away. The man was incredible. 

The best part of dating Castiel, though, was the sex. Without a doubt, the man rocked Dean’s world. It didn’t take long for him to find out that edging wasn’t the doctors only BDSM practice. As their relationship grew, they came to spend more nights and weekends together and the men eagerly worked their way through almost every toy in Castiel’s massive hutch. Dean found that he really liked most all of them and that at the hands of his lover, there was no sensation he didn’t want to feel. 

Plus, Castiel watched him so intently that he’d never actually had to safeword. The man just seemed to know when Dean was reaching his threshold. He’d encourage Dean, giving him the strength to continue, and then stop shortly after. That pattern seemed to keep Dean finishing his scenes feeling brave and triumphant. Then he’d smother Dean with praise. 

Dean loved his aftercare, attention whore that he was, eating up the man’s gentle ministrations and not feeling bad about it either - because he’d earned it. He’d never even imagined being so completely and exhaustively satisfied in his sex life. He’d also never slept better in his life, secured in the man’s strong arms and comfy in his huge bed.

Days passed into weeks and when Sammy visited for the holidays, Cas was introduced to him with the label of boyfriend. It seemed a strange term to Dean’s ears. After all, Cas was no boy. But, social constructs being what they were, ‘virile and satisfying man-friend’ seemed stranger, if not more honest. 

Sharing Christmas with Sam, away from their father, gave them the chance to do things the way they wanted and start their own traditions. It was the best holiday Dean could ever remember them having. A few nights out with Cas while Sam was visiting gave them all the chance to get to know each other better and Dean was pleased to see a genuine friendship developing between his brother and his boyfriend. When the day came to drop off  Sam at the airport, Dean didn’t stiffen when his exuberant brother hugged him too tightly. He embraced it; hugged back. 

Once Dr. Novak had spent some time with the younger Winchester, things between Dean and Castiel seemed to really fall into place. Under Cas’s care, Dean found himself encouraged to slow down his eating, his drinking, and his spending. To his surprise, Dean found that he rather liked it. The nod of approval that he got from Cas when he put away dessert after one slice was worth six more slices. 

Castiel was never bossy or domineering in their relationship. He was firm, yes, but never overbearing and the merging of their lives was easy and natural, like putting on a favorite pair of jeans that always fit perfectly. 

  
  
  


**Go to chapter 19**


	19. Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... this is the last chapter. As I close out the story, I want to say a very special thank you to Destiella who was absolutely incredible to work with on this project. I appreciated her time and expertise, as well as her awesome ideas and encouragement. Thank you very much sweetie!
> 
> Also, I want to thank Adromytta and Acklesfan who were brave enough to read this as a WIP. Thanks for your encouraging comments guys, really.

 

 

“Dean, the calendar on the fridge is supposed to have your shifts written on it,” chastised Castiel as he cut up fruit for his morning smoothie.

“Sorry,” mumbled Dean, rubbing his bleary eyes as he staggered into the kitchen.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d be here when I get home tonight.”

“Nope,” he replied through a yawn, scratching his belly as he moved towards the fridge. “I’m on the overnight. Won’t be home til you’re gettin’ up for work in the mornin’.”

“Well, then,” said Cas, elevating his voice to be heard over the jarring sound of the blender as he ran it, “tomorrow morning I’ll expect to be awakened the fun way.”

Dean would’ve answered in the affirmative, but he was busy guzzling milk straight from the jug. He startled when Cas turned to see him doing it and barked his name harshly. 

A grin spread over Dean’s lips as he returned the milk to its resting place. His eyes were still cloudy with sleep, but his body was coming alive now that he’d purposefully antagonized his Dom. Keeping his back to Cas intentionally, Dean nosed through the fridge for something to eat. He loved playing this little game with Cas. Maybe it made him a bit of an attention whore, but Dean didn’t give a shit. He loved stoking a fire in his man’s belly… and then feeling the effects of it later. 

Nestled near the back of the top shelf was a single plate wrapped in cellophane, the last slice of an apple pie Dean had made days ago. Under his husband’s watchful eye, Dean rarely over-ate anymore. His nearly flat stomach was proof of it. But, pie for breakfast sounded awesome. 

Just as he was reaching for the dish, a firm hand landed on Dean’s shoulder. From behind him, he heard Cas’s deep and commanding voice say, “Do you really think you deserve a treat like that when you’ve just broken the standing rules of the kitchen by drinking directly from the container?”

“It’s not a treat, Cas, it’s breakfast.”

“That’s not breakfast,” said Cas with a put-upon sigh. Clamping down firmly on Dean’s shoulder, the man pulled him from the fridge and turned him forcefully. “This is breakfast.”

Dean met his man’s eye and then glanced down at the glass Castiel was holding out for him. It was a smoothie. Unsure of the trade off, Dean asked, “What’s in it?”

“You don’t need to know,” replied Cas with a smirk, “but you’ll like it. It tastes like berries.”

“You put carrots in it, didn’t you,” laughed Dean.

“You’ll taste berries.”

“I’d rather taste pie.”

“I forbid you to eat pie,” retorted Cas firmly from under an arched eyebrow. Dean had to bite down a grin. His frisky side was fully awake now and he loved Cas bossing him around. Craving a bit of ‘funishment’ Dean pressed his luck, wondering how far he’d have to go before Cas threatened a spanking. 

“I’ll have, like, eight hours alone with this pie today while you’re at work.”

“That pie better still be here when I get home today. If it’s gone, I’ll turn your cheeks pink.”

“You’ll be waitin’ a long damn time,” laughed Dean, taking the smoothie from Cas as he stepped away. He settled onto a stool at the breakfast bar and then looked back at his man adding, “I’m workin’ til sunrise, remember?”

Cas strode purposefully around behind Dean and brought his hands to rest on Dean’s hips. Through the soft material of his sleep pants, Dean could feel the man’s fingertips pressing in. “Then come sunrise,” he promised, “you’ll have a sore ass.”

At the roughly spoken promise, Dean’s cock twitched between his legs and began to plump up. Lust surged through him. Surprising even himself, Dean made a quick decision, a bold move, and in one motion, he slid his glass to the side and pushed up from his stool. Sprawling forward over the counter he arched his back and preened his ass into the air… an open invitation. 

“A spanking now is worth two tomorrow,” he grinned playfully. Dean wasn’t sure what to expect now that he’d put himself into this position, but when Cas told him not to move, he locked his body into that wanton position and held it. Gleefully. 

Bent the way he was, Dean could not see his man behind him, he could only hear him. There was a rustle of fabric and then soft electronic tones. Uncertain for a moment, Dean hovered there, trying to ignore the fact that his dick was hard and painfully trapped between himself and the edge of the counter. Then, he smiled warmly, tingles spreading out from his core as he heard Castiel speaking because he realized that Cas had taken his phone out of his pocket and was calling the clinic to let them know he’d be late. 

“Yes,” Cas was saying, “I’ll be in an hour or so. I just have something urgent that I must attend to this morning.”

Still holding his position, Dean thrilled with excitement while waiting. Then, when the phone was put away, there was a beat of complete silence. Cas was deciding what to do with him. Dean longed to reach behind himself and tug his pants down, expose his ass to Cas. He’d been craving a punishment and was about to get one. And, thankfully, his man was already late which meant he’d not be dragging out this session for hours. Instead, Dean would be getting what he wanted  _ now _ . 

A gentle touch wasn’t what he craved. But it’s what he got. It wasn’t an accident either. The man knew him… like no one else ever had. He paid attention to every word and gesture. Cas knew what Dean wanted at every moment of every day. And now, in this moment, he knew that what Dean wanted was to be roughed up. He wanted a few strong swats, some dirty talk, a fuck that bordered on painful and the knowledge that he’d be feeling it all day and night until the two men were once again alone together. 

Cas, though, Cas was never one to give exactly what was wanted… or give it in the way it was expected. 

So, defying Dean’s expectation that his pants be jerked down, Cas ran his fingertips gently down Dean’s back. Dean groaned, hating that his poor dick was still painfully wedged, but but too turned on to go soft and provide relief. When those long fingers finally found the elastic of Dean’s cotton pants, they retreated. But at least, as they wandered back up towards his shoulders, they slid under his soft t-shirt.

“I really hate that our schedules don’t ever line up,” whispered Cas as he tickled his way up Dean’s spine, pulling Dean’s shirt up as he went. “You know I’d rather take my time.”

Dean sucked in a ragged breath, secretly glad that this would be a bit rushed from Castiel’s point of view. “Yeah,” was all he could manage to say. 

“You’re my hero, Dean,” said Cas softly, leaning in to pepper kisses up Dean’s back. “You ride out into the night and save people’s lives. You keep their hearts beating and their lungs breathing until they can get to a trauma room.”

Dean didn’t speak at all in response to this praise. But even the fact that he wasn’t arguing the merit of these words was progress and he knew that. Slowly he began to relax as Castiel’s words and kisses soaked into him. His posture slowly went slack, ass no longer pushed up into the air but resting with the rest of his body where it laid over the breakfast bar. 

“I just wish,” continued Cas, “that you could be my hero on the day shift.” Both men chuckled as he said that. “It would be nice if we could both get up and get ready for work together… come home at night and eat supper together…”

“That sounds nice, Cas,” smiled Dean, completely relaxed now. His lover’s hands were warm under his t-shirt where they came to rest on Dean’s shoulders. Behind him, Dean could feel the weight of his man pushing up against him, a thick line of hard cock pressing against his ass. 

“...go to bed at the same time…”

“Yeah,” replied Dean as Cas rolled his hips.

“...fuck all night…”

“Yeah.”

“...and again in the morning before the alarm goes off…”

“Hell yeah.”

“Dean, I think that once you’re on the day shift,” whispered Castiel with a huff of laughter, “I think we should revisit your notion of raising some ‘diaper fillers’.”

“Yeah,” he whispered in agreement, enraptured by the man’s voice and his invitation to discuss starting a family. He also loved the idea of working days, but he’d have to pay his dues on the nightshift first. They both knew that. 

At least Cas was giving him lots to look forward to.

“That’s the future,” reminded Cas, stopping his ministrations. “But this, right now, is the present. And in the present, Dean, you’ve been a very bad boy.”

Castiel’s tone grew forceful as he spoke and Dean, having been lulled into complete relaxation, was startled by the change. “You’ve not kept up your calendar,” reminded Cas icily, “and you’ve shown total disregard for the rules of the kitchen, which we made together. You’ve even threatened to disobey my direct order and eat the last piece of pie against my will.”

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was still bent over the breakfast bar, a position he’d put himself into with hopes of a spanking. But Castiel had distracted him, gotten him thinking of other things. Now, with Dean quieter and less playful, Cas was going to punish him. Dean couldn’t help it. He was getting hard again. Swelling against the counter once more, Dean let out a whine. Cas would do it now. Jerk his pants down and set his ass on fire, like the Dom he really was. And Dean would take it. He might even cry a bit as it happened, like the Sub he really was. 

To his utter surprise, though, Cas didn’t bare Dean’s ass in the kitchen. He grasped him firmly by the shoulder and pulled him off of the counter, dragging him towards the dining room with a heavy hand. 

Wondering what his Dom would do with him, Dean didn’t put up a fight. His sleeping pants were obscenely tented and his gait was stiff and lurching due to the weight of his engorged cock swinging from side to side as he walked. Entering the dining room, Castiel used his free hand to jerk open the blinds. Beyond them, Dean could see straight through the french doors and across the back yard. To the sides and rear of the house were neighboring dwellings, full of potential witnesses, and it was of their eyes that Dean thought when his husband sat down in a chair and pulled Dean over his knee. 

Pitching forward, Dean was glad for Cas’s steady hand. It helped him keep his balance as he found himself, once again, bent over with his ass in the air. 

His heavy dick was pushed back and it laid with his legs against Castiel’s thigh. With a view of the floorboards where his palms now supported half his weight, Dean felt his pants tugged down, exposing his ass to the cool air of the room. He couldn’t help but glance over to the french doors which were just a few feet away. If anyone were to look carefully, they’d see Dean like this… bent over his man’s knee with a bare ass and an expectant face. When the first swat fell, the sound of it echoed through the empty room and the sting of it surprised him despite him knowing it was coming. He cried out against the pain and then bit down on his lip to try and quiet himself. His cock began to wilt, and with that came some relief. But Cas was getting hard. Rock hard. He always did when he spanked Dean. 

“That’s one,” said Cas firmly, “you’ll count the rest. If you make a mistake, we’ll start over. And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Keep your voice down.”

“H-how many?” he gasped, the initial sting abating now, spreading out over the surface of his left buttock in the shape of Castiel’s hand. 

“That’s for me to decide. I’m the one who’s been made late for work.”

Dean turned his head away from the window. He had no idea if any of their nosy neighbors were watching, but they had a lot of bored housewives on their block so it wouldn’t surprise him if they had an audience. He liked the idea of them being watched and worked to hold down a smile as he looked away from the backyard and let his eyes focus on the woodgrain of the flooring. 

“Two,” he called out excitedly when his other cheek absorbed the next smack. 

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”  _ Holy shit _ \-  _ ass on fire. _

“Fuck! Six!” he shouted, wriggling in his Dom’s lap as he tried to move the most sensitive spots away from the fury of Castiel’s open hand. 

“Seven!” _ Shit shit shit _

“Eight!”  _ Fuck. Is he going for ten? _

“Nine,” he shouted, through gritted teeth, “Nine and I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry?” questioned Cas.

“M’sorry,” he grunted, still wriggling. “M’sorry, Sir.”

“Dean,” said Cas, his hand settling softly on Dean’s ass, “I think you know by now that I like even numbers. Do you really think I’d stop at nine, just because you’ve finally said you’re sorry?”

“N-no Sir,” he replied, hating how raspy his voice sounded. He knew Cas would give him one more. He could safeword if he wanted, but he wouldn’t. He’d take what his man gave him. Take it and be grateful. Because this man, over whose knee he was bent, was the center of his world. And for some unknown reason, Dean was the center of his world too. He may have bitten off a bit more than he could chew when he’d instigated discipline this morning, but he was going to take it. Because he’d asked for it. And out of love, Cas had set aside important things to give it. 

“P-please Sir,” implored Dean wholeheartedly, “may I have another?”

“That’s my boy,” cooed Castiel. 

Dean smiled through his tears, proud of himself for manning up and still more than a little turned on at the idea of them being witnessed in this act. He sincerely hoped that someone was seeing this. 

Castiel didn’t dish out the final spanking right away. First, he spread Dean’s cheeks and spent a moment just looking. Feeling the weight of his man’s gaze on his most private and sensitive area brought euphoria bubbling to the surface. His flaccid cock stirred and he found himself craning his neck to try and get a look at his man from over his shoulder. Castiel, as always, was stunning. He didn’t watch for long. Seeing Cas raise his fingers to his mouth was enough. Dean returned to his original position, eyes glued on the grains of their floorboards. 

Against his flaming cheeks, Castiel’s wet finger felt ice cold. Cas drug that finger across his left cheek and then spread his cheeks apart again. Dean took a deep breath and let it out as he felt a moist digit circle his pucker and tease at it. His dick was filling fast and he had to wiggle around to find a place for it. “Please,” he whimpered, “Please?”

“Yes,” said Cas softly, pushing his finger inside. 

Closing his eyes, Dean reveled in the feeling of Cas being inside him, even just this little bit. The snap of his last spanking took him by surprise, his hole clenching along with his butt cheeks and trapping his man’s finger there for a moment. 

That finger was extracted painfully slow, Dean’s breathing accelerating as it happened. “Get to your feet,” said the commanding voice of his husband. Dean complied quickly, his knees knocking as he struggled to stand. Cas then got up from his seat and with a wry look, he flicked at Dean’s pants which were stretched around his  thighs. They slipped to the floor and pooled at his ankles, but Dean didn’t move to step out of them. He stood there in front of the paned glass doors, still wearing his t-shirt. His erection jutting out from his body and pointing towards the backyard. 

From behind him, Castiel slid up against his body and began moving him forward toward the patio doors. 

“You’ll stand here and wait,” said Castiel firmly. “You’ll wait, much like my patients are now waiting. If anyone is watching...” added Cas ominously, “...then they’ll know I’m a lucky man.”

Dean suppressed a chuckle at the way Cas had turned his tone to teasing at the last minute. The man always seemed to keep him guessing. He bent his head under the doctor’s praise and waited obediently while Castiel left room. Dean didn’t need to wonder how long his man would be gone. He’d likely just gone for lube. But, as he stood there in the nude, right in front of the glass doors, Dean knew he was highly visible. 

He watched the neighbors dog run back and forth on it’s clothesline leash, barking at some squirrel or rabbit. Under an overcast sky, the house directly behind them was still and seemed quiet, while the one next to it had a Volvo idling in the driveway, abandoned momentarily as its owner pushed his trashcan to the street, his breath coming out in puffs of white steam. Winter was still hanging on, months after New Years. 

Hearing the footsteps of his man drawing closer, Dean sighed relief. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Cas returning his smile. Until that moment, he’d not realized he’d even been wearing a smile. 

Cas was unbuckling his belt as he neared.

“It’s gonna be spring soon,” Dean found himself saying. “There hasn’t been any snow for weeks.”

“I won’t miss the cold,” nodded Cas as he put his hands to Dean and shoved him forward. The paned glass was freezing and he hissed as it made contact with his warm skin. “Me either,” he joked through gritted teeth. “But the holidays were really nice this year,” he admitted. 

Usually, they went to the east coast to spend Christmas with Cas and Jimmy’s folks. But this year, they’d brought Sam along. He’d spent enough time with the twins over the years to feel comfortable joining when invited. Perhaps when his time as a student was over, Sam would propose to his girl and then she’d come along too. For some reason, as he was pondering these things, Dean found himself considering the possibility that one day they’d bring children to the holiday gatherings… bake cookies with them... watch them open gifts… take pictures to document the passage of time as the years rolled by. Cas’s mother would finally have a grandchild or two to spoil. 

“Yes, Dean, the holidays were nice,” answered Cas, bringing Dean’s mind back to the present. “I very much enjoyed our time and travels together. But, now that I’ve got my dick out, it would be nice if I could have your full attention on it. Or have you lost interest in being fucked?”

“No, Sir,” he grinned, pushing his ass back, “My red ass is all yours.”

“That’s right,” replied Cas as he grasped Dean’s butt cheek, “This is mine.”

“And this is mine,” barked Dean roughly, snaking his hands around behind his back to cup Castiel’s package.

Cas leaned his weight into Dean, pushing him back against the frosty glass again and bringing a curse to his lips. When his cockhead bumped against the freezing surface, a full-body shiver snaked it’s way through him. 

Arching his back proved helpful in keeping his dick from touching the wintery coolness and simultaneously had the advantage of pushing his cheeks into the swell of Cas behind him. “Yeah,” he sighed as he felt cool, slick fingers sliding up his crack. A beat later, those exploratory fingers were replaced with the blunt and bulbous shape of Castiel’s swollen cock. 

Dean felt his cheeks spread and then his lover’s shaft was guided in between them. With his breath coming faster, Dean leaned forward, now welcoming the cool surface on his front side as his body quickly grew heated. Adjusting his stance, Dean set his feet apart and spread his body wide for Cas. The man was running his flesh up and down Dean’s crack and each time the tip passed over Dean’s hole, a groan of pleasure slid out of his mouth. He wanted that cock in him  _ now _ .  But if Castiel thought he was being rushed, he’d slow way the hell down. No way. Dean knew that if he wanted to be fucked, he’d better shut the fuck up and take it how Cas wanted to give it. That thought, if not the sensual foreplay, filled Dean’s body with wanton desire. 

The memory of his spankings coupled with the lingering soreness in the meat of his ass had Dean in a frenzy already, and with Cas dragging this out, Dean thought he’d lose his mind with how badly he wanted to be taken. Penetrated. Speared from behind. Split open over a massive cock. Bent forward and ridden hard until his legs couldn’t hold the weight and the itch deep inside him was finally scratched and sated.

Dean’s eyes snapped open when Cas spoke again, his rough voice next to Dean’s ear saying, “Mrs. Meyers.”

“W-Who? What?” 

“Mrs. Meyers, Dean, you remember don’t you? The Winthrop’s nanny. She’s watching us.”

Dean’s brain sputtered as he tried to think of which adjacent house belonged to the Winthrop family. His eyes darted wildly from one residence to another. “Where?”

“The yellow house,” Castiel supplied, “remember the barbeque?”

Dean said, “Yeah,” as his mind flicked back to the mid-summer’s evening when they’d joined many neighbors for a gathering at the house that backed up to theirs diagonally. When his eyes fell on the house in question, he saw a face staring at them from an upstairs window. For a moment he was tempted to wave, but he didn’t. If the young woman was flighty, she might turn away when acknowledged and Dean didn’t want her to go. He liked having an audience - especially when he was with Cas. In fact, doing scenes in front of their peers at the club was one of Dean’s absolute favorite pastimes. Their best so far had been just a few weeks ago when he’d been strung up in a sling and impaled by the doctor with a large group of observers looking on. That time, he’d actually blacked out when he came. This time, he’d try to keep on his feet.

While he waited to be fucked, watching their neighbors’ nanny watch them, Dean was purposefully fingered open. His erection waned a bit as Castiel withdrew his talented fingers and breached Dean with his cock, but even small and limp he could still feel it flopping around as his hips were guided into thrusting. When he and his husband started picking up speed together, the reverberations slowly enticed his package to swell. Once it was full and heavy again, it swung mightily between his legs as Cas pounded into him.

Dean kept his back arched, loving the way it felt to be fucked and enjoying the occasional jolt when his crown would bounce against the cold glass. He never wanted it to end. 

“Yeah, Cas, yeah,” he moaned over and over. Deep inside him, a dull heat was growing into hot flames as Cas’s cock nudged the sensitive spot that hid deep within him on each push. Taking his eyes off the outside world for a beat, Dean looked down at his groin. A long string of pre-cum was dangling from the tip, swinging wildly with their movements and soon breaking. The sight was overwhelming and when Cas reached around to stroke him, Dean came immediately. He was watching when spatters of translucent cum struck the floor, the door he was leaning on, even his own leg. 

Cas, ever vigilant to Dean’s needs, fucked him through his orgasm, thrusts no longer building but slow and careful and precise with his dick tapping the good spot for added pleasure as Dean blew his load sloppily. 

Then, with Dean’s lust sated, Cas began to speed up again in an effort to quench his own desires. He clutched tightly to Dean’s hips, not giving him a moment to rest once his climax was complete. 

“Yeah,” Dean repeated again, “Yeah, Cas, yeah.”

Cas growled Dean’s name, barreling into him with force now.

“Yeah Cas,” encouraged Dean, “take what you want.”

This was it… finally… Dean was getting that all-consuming, brutally passionate, mind numbing fuck he’d been seeking when he’d dared to drink milk straight from the jug and lip off to his Dom. The lube was thinning and Dean’s hole was starting to burn and he ached in the best possible way as his man ravaged his body. When Castiel flung his weight forward, Dean knew he was coming. He rolled his hips to help it last for his man and then, eventually, they both slid to the floor. 

Several minutes ticked by as the two gathered themselves, exchanging a few huffs of laughter as they noticed that their watcher was no longer visible. 

“I think I need another shower,” chuckled Cas as they got back to their feet. Dean followed his man into the bathroom where the two stepped into their glass enclosed shower together. Dean sighed contentedly as his hair was washed for him and when Cas turned his attention to cleaning himself, Dean stood behind him and massaged the man’s broad shoulders. Afterwards, when they were toweling off, Cas said, “Hey, did I mention that my car’s running a little rough?”

“Take Baby today,” Dean answered, “I’ll run yours by the shop this afternoon. Benny can have a look at it.”

“Alright. Thank you, Dean.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, snapping his towel playfully at his man’s ass as he left. Following Cas’s sexy form out into the bedroom, Dean crawled back into bed. Having just come off the night shift, he’d only gotten about an hour of sleep when Cas had gotten up for work. Missing the man’s warmth in the bed, Dean had ambled out into the kitchen where Cas usually fixed himself breakfast. That was where he’d decided, at the spur of the moment, to antagonize his Dom. The sex that followed had been the beginning of the day for Dr. Novak, but it was the end of the day for Dean. So now, he pulled the covers up around his neck and watched his husband getting dressed.

As he stepped into a fresh pair of underwear, the doctor looked over at Dean and said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you… how’s Benny finding married life?”

“I think it suits him,” smiled Dean. 

“They make a nice couple.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed through a yawn, “She was always special to him… even before they started sleepin’ together.”

“What’s her name again?”

“Elizabeth. I know you haven’t spent much time with her yet, but trust me, she’s a pistol.” Dean grinned as he thought of her. “You know, Benny warned me away from her when I first met him.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, she was waitressing at the Fiesta diner when I first got to town. I think he caught me lookin’ her over. I should’ve known they’d end up together. Even back then, it was obvious that she meant a lot to him. I guess she was there for him when Andrea cheated on him and things just kind of clicked after that.”

“We should invite them out for dinner some night.”

“Sounds good.”

“Where are your keys?” asked Cas, leaning in to plant an affectionate kiss on Dean’s temple.

“Pocket of my jeans,” he mumbled, pretending not to be affected by his man’s warm gesture.

“If that pie is still in the fridge when I get home tonight,” promised Cas, “I’ll suck your dick while you eat it.”

Dean smiled warmly, snuggled down into the covers and whispered, “Who needs pie then?”

Once Cas had left, Dean fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. When he woke, he could hear the muted sounds of the television being used in the living room. Pulling on sweat pants, Dean headed out there and plopped down next to Jimmy. 

“Whatcha watchin’?”

“Just flippin’ channels,” lied Jimmy as he moved through stations.

“Bullshit. I just caught you watchin’ Golden Girls. Again. You gotta just own that shit.”

“Whatever you say, pink cheeks.”

Immediately embarrassed at being busted, Dean sighed and said, “So much for you bein’ a heavy sleeper.”

“If you don’t want me to hear it… then do it before my bastard brother runs the blender. That thing would wake the dead.”

“You workin’ at the restaurant tonight?” Dean asked, trying to change the subject.

“Yep.”

“You like bein’ the manager?”

“No. I hate having to be responsible for shit. But, the bigger paycheck is nice.”

“Funneling the proceeds into a new car?”

“Nope. A ring.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. I’m gonna let her make an honest man out of me.”

“She’s a handful of a woman,” chuckled Dean, thinking of Jo Harvelle. 

“That she is,” nodded Jim. The two had been seeing each other for quite some time now… ever since they’d had an ill-advised, lines of friendship blurring, drunken roll in the hay. 

“Dude,” said Dean flatly, “you were like, my last single friend.” 

“I know,” Jimmy grinned at him. “Life’s gonna get boring now.”

“That just means it’s time to have some kids.”

“Fuck off,” barked Jim, “you sound like my mother.”

“Or… your best man?”

“Nope.”

“It’s me,” grinned Dean, “I know it is.”

“Fuck no.”

“C’mon man, it’s gotta be me. I’ll do it up right!”

“We’ll see,” smirked the younger Novak twin. “How bout you take over my chores for a few weeks while I decide on it?”

“Sure. Hold your breath while you wait for me to do them,” he teased as he got up to leave. 

“Where you headed this early? We didn’t even eat yet.”

“Gonna grab a quick shower and head out. I’ve gotta swing by the shop on my way to work. Your brother’s Euro-trash car is actin’ up.” 

Jimmy lobbed a decorative pillow at him as he left the room. Dean took his time in the shower, got dressed, packed up his lunch and hollered a goodbye over his shoulder as he stepped out the door.

The days were getting longer now, with spring approaching, and he was glad for it as he stepped out into the cold. Driving Cas’s luxury sedan across town, Dean couldn’t help but put his eyes on the backseat in the rearview mirror and picture car seats anchored there. The image made him smile. 

A few years ago, he’d thought that an appearance in one of Dr. Cum Control’s videos was the best thing he could hope for. And now, here he was… married to ‘The Doctor’, the exclusive subject of any new Cum Control videos, and even participating in events with Cas at their BDSM club on occasion. Dean’s life wasn’t just stable, it was downright satisfying. So was Sam’s, it would seem. Dean’s baby brother was on track to graduate law school next year and was fully committed to his dreamy blonde ‘California girl’. 

The brothers still saw their father occasionally. And, sadly, he wasn’t done wounding them. But, they supported one another and presented a united front as they dealt with John Winchester these days. 

So, aside from the disadvantages of having a raging alcoholic for a father, Dean was happy with his life. He smiled as he drove, eyes darting to the backseat a few more times  as he thought of the family he’d soon be building with Castiel. It would seem that Dean was finally happy… really and truly happy.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first stab at writing a 'choose your own adventure' story and I hope you'll leave feedback to let me know what you thought.


	20. Twenty

The decision was quick once he really started thinking about it. Making a video? Lots of work. Uploading it to the Dr. Cum Control site? Risky. Very risky. Besides, he could always revisit the idea later if he wanted. Tonight, though, tonight he just needed a release. 

Just the thought of stuffing himself with a dildo sent a shiver of anticipation skittering up his spine. He leapt to his feet and decided to grab a few things to try. He stepped into the bathroom and went for the obvious hairbrush. It’s handle was cylindrical, if a bit small. Just for good measure, he washed it thoroughly. The bottles of hair products and shampoo seemed too large and blunt. With nothing else promising in the bathroom, Dean headed for the kitchen. 

On some level, he must’ve known where he was headed, but when he found himself gazing down at his drawer full of spatulas and wooden spoons, he cringed. But, sensing his pending shame did nothing to deter him from selecting a very promising soup ladle made of black plastic. He also picked up his meat tenderizer. It was certainly an odd item to take to the bedroom, but the handle of it was thick and smooth. 

Illogical as it may have been to check the fridge, Dean found himself staring at the crisper drawer. He was Dean fucking Winchester. There were no veggies in his fridge. But, as he eyed his empty crisper drawer, he wondered if a cucumber would really have done the job as perfectly as he was picturing. 

With a sigh he returned to his room, piled his experimental toys on the bed, and flopped down next to them. With a half empty bottle of Astroglide in hand, Dean got to work.

He soon came to realize that how long something was didn’t really matter. What mattered was how it felt pushing past his rim. That, and the thrill that accompanied secretly doing something naughty, were the primary payoff for his trouble. 

The hairbrush wasn’t any good. It had a small burr on it’s handle and that wasn’t pleasant, but the small knot in the plastic couldn’t be removed without tools or flame so the thing was set aside. So far, the best thing he’d found was the meat tenderizer. It wasn’t easy to insert because it was quite heavy at the hammer end which worked against him the whole time. He was feeling a bit defeated when he reached the bottom of his stack of possible items and hadn’t really found something that would do the trick. It left him feeling incomplete. Empty. 

He needed to be filled… it was a longing in him that had previously not had a name. Even now, as he worked to penetrate himself with a soup ladle, it was hard to admit what he needed. But his desire to be filled up was only growing stronger by the minute. Dean felt himself growing desperate. 

In his mind, he pictured Castiel as he remembered him from earlier. Behind his clenched eyelids the memory of Castiel unzipping his pants presented itself with startling clarity. Dean tried to imagine himself bending over, presenting his bare ass to the blue-eyed man in his Zorro mask. He shuddered as a series of pornographic images flashed through his mind… all of them starring his masked man. He held his breath and sank down on his makeshift toy, rocking his hips and enjoying the feel of something hard up inside of him and the occasional tug on his rim when he moved. None of these toys were really wide enough to satisfy, but they certainly added eroticism to his wank session. As he stroked, watched Dr. Cum Control, and made the most of what he had, Dean wished for more... more between his cheeks… more deep inside him… more to spread him wide and really fill him. Oh, how he wanted it to be Castiel. Dean was desperate with want for the man and he ached with need as he tried to come. 

His stiff prick certainly enjoyed the feeling as he rolled his hips on the mattress and felt the ladle shift and slide with his movements. But it wasn’t what he really wanted. He wanted Cas, stretching him wide and pushing deeper with every thrust. 

Also vivid in Dean’s mind was the image of himself bent over a spanking bench like the one at the club with Castiel standing over him and giving him commands that he dare not defy. At his master’s word, Dean would push his bare ass upward and offer it to him. The man would do what he liked with it… spank it, tickle it, peel his cheeks apart and show the puckered bud off to others proudly, insert a dildo or a vibrator, or perhaps even his own cock if Dean was lucky enough. 

With these thoughts racing through his brain, Dean finally tipped over the edge and came. He spilled over the back of his hand with his mouth locked open in a silent scream. Then, he laid there in the aftermath with a soup ladle up his ass and a sticky hand on his cock as he regained his composure. 

Depression set in before the cum could even dry. He was lonely. Unfulfilled. Empty. As he finally reached back and gingerly slid his fake toy out, Dean found himself working to hold back tears. He was being swallowed up by a sickening kind of sadness. Luckily, he didn’t have to linger in that state for long. He was exhausted, and sleep took him without much delay. 

When he woke in the morning, accidentally rolling over on the goddamn meat tenderizer, Dean cursed aloud and decided that enough was enough. He picked up the wide assortment of defiled household items that were strewn around his bed and threw them in the trash. Then he headed for the shower. He took his time shaving and getting dressed before sliding behind the wheel of his baby. There was no adult toy store in Pontiac, so Dean headed south on the highway towards the much larger town of Bloomington. 

Late fall now, the day was crisp and cold with a cloudless blue sky. It was a good day for driving. His destination held two things that Dean was looking forward to… an adult entertainment store and a restaurant offering decent barbeque.

**Go to Chapter 13**


	21. Twenty-one

It wasn’t a good idea. He knew that. But try as he might to shake the notion from his head, it had latched on stubbornly and would not be dismissed. He wanted to make the video. In fact, just the thought of doing it was so provocative that he was trembling with excitement. 

Dean glanced around the room, trying to figure out the logistics of this endeavor. He wanted to copy the style Cas always used in his videos - no face. The thought made him smile. He turned on his bedside lamp so that soft amber light would illuminate the area where he’d be laying. Then, he positioned his pillows as a substitute for his body. 

Moving a stack of books and an ashtray around on his bedside table, he was able to create a small perch for his phone. It was his only camera. Pleased with his set-up so far, Dean walked around the bed, stipping the last of his clothes off as he went, and pulled his computer screen over to the corner of the desk. 

Pushing his swivel chair out of the way he was pleased to see that there was a direct line of sight from his camera to his computer screen. His own naked body, he thought, would appear in the foreground and hopefully leave enough of the screen visible for the Dr. Cum Control video to be plainly seen. 

He was wrong. 

The pillows, which were meant to simulate his presence on the bed, had to be adjusted several times; as did both the computer and camera. Long before he got the angle right, Dean was huffing in frustration and cursing under his breath as he padded around the room naked and tried to get things setup correctly. 

Hat’s off to Cas. His videos, which Dean had always considered amatuer in nature, were actually very well thought out. The angle of the camera was always changing and the shots were flawless - always showcasing exactly what Cas wanted the viewers to see. 

As he moved the pillows aside and lowered himself onto the bed, Dean decided that he would not stop again. He’d watch the video and get off, knowing he was being recorded. When he was finished, he could decide if he’d actually send the video or not. He just didn’t want to spend the entire time thinking about the mechanics of making the video as he tried to finally blow his load. 

Stacking the pillows up behind his head, Dean checked to make sure everything he needed was nearby and then hit the record. 

The video he’d chosen was one of his favorites, so it was easy to get lost in what has happening on screen. Despite his willingness to forget about the camera and focus only on his pleasure, Dean was still cognizant of being recorded. Acknowledging that Cas, Dr. Cum Control, might one day watch this video sent a surge of lust roaring through his body. 

While he’d busied himself with preparing things, his cock had fallen flaccid. But now it began to fill. Dean looked down his stomach at it, smiling proudly as he watched it grow from wilted to chubby and then from chubby to firm and, finally, from firm to rock-hard. 

On screen, the talented doctor had fixed a lean-bodied man into a seated position with his wrists bound behind his back and his ankles shackled to the legs of the chair. The subject of this video was, of course, wearing a cock ring. He also had a few clothespins clipped to his inner thigh. The man must like a little pain with his pleasure. 

Stroking himself slowly with a loose hand, Dean watched in fascination as the featured cock, an impressive one, slid through loosely curled fingers. It was glistening with lube and Dean held his breath as he watched Dr. Cum Control use his free hand to produce another clothespin.  He introduced it slowly. The subject of the video must be seeing that clip coming with trepidation - likely wondering where it would be placed. 

Nipple. Yesss. Right next to the nipple. Well played doctor, well played. 

Enthralled, Dean pinched his own nipple and began stroking his dick. Tightening his grip on himself, he jacked in perfect synchronization with the talented hand on screen. It was good to feel himself building towards something. That’s what this was all about, after all. Dean had been so over-stimulated all night that he’d been unable to bring himself over the edge. But now, in the frame of a camera himself, that was no longer the case. He could feel that edge coming closer. 

The star of the video was panting now, his stomach clenching and his limbs twitching. “Sir,” the man whispered, “sir, sir.”

Dean found himself whispering along. “Sir,” he gasped as he fucked up into his own hand. His eyes were glued to the video where the doctor, Cas, had pulled away from the man’s shaft to avoid letting him come. Rather, he now busied his fingers with tickling the man’s ball sack. 

The camera then changed angles, sinking lower, and Dean felt his pulse kick up a notch as he watched the doctor bring his other hand back into the frame, three fingers curled and one straight. That straight middle finger pressed to the pucker between two spread legs and circled there a few times. 

Seeking more of the touch, the Sub in the video scooched down in the chair to bring his ass to the edge of the seat. Dean wanted to be the man in the video. He fumbled the bottle of lube awkwardly, not wanting to tear his eyes from the screen as the doctor gently teased at a quivering hole. Dean’s own hand, scrambling to get between his clenched cheeks, was a poor substitute. 

He pressed into himself just as the doctor sank into his sub and began smooth and easy thrusts, milking pleasure from deep within this man. 

Dean was enthralled as he watched the finger slide out, achingly slow, and then be joined by its neighboring ring finger. Those two fingers pushed up inside and, again, the restrained man called out “sir, sir,”. 

So did Dean. 

Dr. Cum Control was now pulling his non-dominant hand back out of the frame, so Dean was intently focused on watching the man’s ass as two middle fingers of the doctor’s right hand sank in slow, went deep, and stayed there. A rhythmic shift of the wrist was the only indication of what those buried fingers were doing. Well, that and the rocking hips of the restrained man who panted and moaned. When Dr. Cum Control’s left hand snuck back into the frame, it was holding a bottle of water. It must be cold too because the plastic was fogged and condensation was dripping down the side. 

The doctor was a master of his craft. He extracted his fingers almost all the way before plunging them back in and thrusting them in and out, several times in quick succession. In his chair, the sub moaned filthily and lifted his hips up off the chair, his engorged cock swaying with the motion and completely unattended for the moment. Abruptly and unexpectedly, the fingers were removed and an empty hole clenched at nothing. In the blink of an eye, Cas had doused his hand in cold water and then grasped the man’s cock. His shackled prisoner cried out in surprise and delight at the new sensation.

With one chilly hand wrapped around that magnificent cock, the other hand set the water down and returned to gently cup and roll the Sub’s balls. 

The man had jolted when he was gripped by a cold hand, but was now relaxing down into the chair as that hand warmed up and began stroking smoothly again. Building up speed, the doctor continued to focus on the man’s cock until he was jacking it hard and rough. The tip was an angry red and by the movements of the attached body, Dean could see the man was dangerously close to his peak. Dean knew, because he’d seen this video before, that Cas was going to let him come now.  

Bucking in his restraints and arching his back, this desperate man was begging pitifully. Dean was close too. He dropped his dick long enough to grab the lube and dribble some more over his engorged package. Moaning at the feel of fresh slick on his shaft, Dean closed his fist around it again. He wiggled the fingers that were still buried in his ass and began jacking himself with single-minded determination. 

On screen, the moment came. Dr. Cum Control abandoned all stimulation, pulling his hands back and waiting with them poised mid-air. A jet of heavy jizz shot out and landed on the man’s sweaty stomach. More spilled out over the crown and slid slowly down the side of the shaft. “Sir,” moaned his sub, “I’m sorry sir.”

Dean watched as Cas leaned in and ran his finger through a puddle of opaque jizz, swirling it across the man’s abdomen. On the screen flashed the words ‘First Cum’. 

This particular video included a running count of orgasms. Dean, being a fan, knew that there would be a total of six by the time Dr. Cum Control released this satisfied prisoner from his cuffs and chains.

With his eyes slipping shut in ecstasy, Dean bore down, feeling himself near the peak. He was thinking of Cas, his mind flipping through the man’s various incarnations, magnetic blue eyes being the common thread that wove them together. 

Dean’s arm was aching, his heart was pounding, and his body was trembling when he finally tumbled over the edge he’d been building towards for hours… since he’d first stepped into the club tonight.He came hard as he jack-knifed across his bed, calling out desperately for his Dom... because that’s what Cas was to him. Cas was his Dom. 

Dean realized the truth of it as he laid on the bed and came down from his powerful orgasm. Whether Cas wanted the job or not, he was Dean’s Dom - owning him completely. 

As he laid there, Dean’s mood began to sour, even with his favorite video still playing in the background. With his devotion unrequited and utterly wasted, there was nothing left to feel now but loneliness. 

He’d never thought of himself as needing anybody but Sam to love him. His father’s love, though coveted, had never really been attainable, so he’d learned to live without it. But, Dean remembered all too well how it had felt to be in Cas’s presence; to be lavished in his attention and affection. 

In contrast, even the combined stimulation of good porn, his fist, and his fingers was a poor substitute. In fact, no sexual encounter he’d ever had could measure up to what he’d experienced tonight - when he’d knelt before Cas.

As he laid there with his skin growing cold, Dean’s mood began to sour. With his devotion unrequited and utterly wasted, there was nothing left to feel but emptiness and loneliness. He wanted to turn off the video, the sight of another man writhing for Cas just made him sick now. 

When his eyes began to prickle, Dean knew he was in danger of actually crying. Doing his best to ignore the feeling and forget about it, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. As he did, the moisture that had been collecting at one corner of his eye spilled over and caused an actual tear to roll down his cheek and he immediately brushed it away. 

With his body spent and weary now, Dean was ready to crash. But, first he had to stop the video. It was making him feel like shit. So, despite being weak in the knees, he hoisted himself out of bed to take care of it. While he was up, he grabbed his favorite soft cotton sleep pants. Pulling them on chased the chill from his skin. 

Knowing his mind was likely to continue dwelling on his sadness, turning on the television for distraction seemed like a good idea. So, as he crawled into bed, he grabbed the remote from his nightstand. As he did, Dean saw his phone perched against the stacked up books. That was the moment he remembered the camera. 

Picking up the small device, Dean stopped the recording. He set the phone down, kicked his way under the covers and turned his attention towards the television.

Flipping channels until he found something vaguely appealing, Dean snuggled down into the blankets. It felt good to wrap himself up. In the absence of the affection he really wanted, the physicality of swadling himself seemed to simulate an embrace. It wasn’t the same, of course, but it was the best he could do for himself.

When he woke, he woke with a start. Busy as his work schedule was, he rarely had a day that wasn’t started by the blaring sound of an alarm. But now, daylight was streaming in his window and no alarm had gone off. So, wondering if he’d overslept, Dean racked his brain and tried to figure what day it was. Slowly, the events of the previous night started coming back to him. He smiled when he remembered making the video - it had been fun. Afterwards, he’d descended into sadness. But, Dean swiftly pushed the memory of that pain aside. 

As he’d planned his trip to Chicago, Dean had requested off from Bernardi’s for the entire weekend. He had no shift today. So, this day was free and he could do what he wanted. 

It was pointless to try and go back to sleep now, so Dean headed to the bathroom to take a piss. After, he returned to his bed-side table with the intention of reviewing his footage from last night. His phone, however, was dead. He put it on the charger, made his bed, and then ambled out to his tiny kitchen for a bowl of cereal. 

He ate on the sofa and watched television, eventually returning to his room. The computer screen was still displaying a freeze frame from the last video he’d watched before bed so he closed that window. Out of habit, he clicked back to Cas’s website to see if any new videos had been loaded. When he’d confirmed that there were none, he exited the site and checked his email. Then, from his desk chair, he looked over at his phone. It took a minute to summon the will to retrieve it and turn it on. 

Seated on his bed, Dean hit play. He was pleased to see that his logistical efforts had paid off. The scene looked exactly the way he’d wanted it to. His naked body dominated the foreground and behind him, the video of Dr. Cum Control was noticeable. It was distant and blurry, but distinguishable enough. As he had last night, Dean smiled approval as he watched his cock slowly inflate and rise. Then he enjoyed the show. With the exception of his imperfect tummy, Dean felt that he looked quite attractive as he pleasured himself. Occasionally, his movements would obstruct the line of sight to the video in the background, but that seemed inconsequential. Overall, Dean was quite pleased with his first attempt as director of porn.

Playing the footage back was arousing and Dean noticed a prominent bulge in his sleep pants. Giving into temptation, he shucked them down around his hips and pulled himself out, his own weight heavy in his hand as he watched himself getting off on the tiny screen of his phone which he still clutched in his other hand.

As he built towards a climax, Dean decided he’d use his day off to procure a dildo. He was sick and tired of trying to get off without something in his ass. After he came, Dean settled back on the pillows to watch the remainder of his video. 

He was surprised to see how much he’d really been moving around on the bed, and watching himself orgasm was very erotic. But, sadly, there had been no one manning the camera to press the stop button after he’d shot his load. The end of his video, which had been surprisingly good, was anticlimactic. It showed almost six solid minutes of Dean, completely still, just laying there while a blurry Cum Control video played on in the background. At the very end Dean saw himself take a deep breath, rise to a seated position, and wipe his eyes as he moved out of the frame. A few moments later, the video ended. 

If he had any knowledge about how to edit video, Dean would have just cut off the latter part of his recording… perhaps done a cool ‘fade to black’ after his orgasm. But, he admitted, nobody but him would have bothered to watch the rest of the video anyway. Anyone else watching would have gotten bored shortly after his climax and moved on. In fact, Dean had to chuckle at the thought of anyone hanging on through six minutes of nothing. It wouldn’t happen. And even if they did, Dean didn’t think it was too obvious that he’d been a bit teary-eyed. 

Aside from the questionable ending, Dean was proud enough of what he’d created that he wanted to send it to Cas. He knew the man would likely watch at least part of it. He might even watch all the way to Dean’s orgasm. But, feeling confident that Cas wouldn’t bother watching much further than that, Dean went ahead and sent it to Dr. Cum Control. 

Then, feeling satisfied with what he’d done, Dean headed for the shower. He took his time shaving and getting dressed before sliding in behind the wheel of his baby. There was no adult toy store in Pontiac, so Dean headed south on the highway towards the much larger town of Bloomington,. 

Late fall now, the day was crisp and cold with a blue cloudless sky. It was a good day for driving. His destination held two things that Dean was looking forward to… an adult entertainment store and a restaurant offering decent barbeque.

**Go to chapter 13**

**Author's Note:**

> Your comment could make my day!


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